Blue Velvet
by ThatOneTrizKid
Summary: Dean made a promise. A promise to be normal. But he broke it. To make matters worse, he brought along fifteen year old Lexington into the world of the supernatural. And as time goes on, something changes in Lex's dreams, something demanding to be let out... AU after season five.
1. Blue Jeans

A/N: Alrighty, this is an AU after season five. Sam hasn't come back, Dean is a bit destructive. Lex is all I own. The title is taken from Lana Del Rey's version of Blue Velvet. You should listen to it.

* * *

His name is Dean Winchester. He saved my life. He took me with him when I had nowhere to go. It's his fault I'm alone. I think I hate him.

Driving. We're always driving. I think we've been on this particular highway about three times. Three times in four months. That how long I've been with him. I'm still deciding whether I hate him or not. I think he thinks I'm asleep. It's dark in the Impala, the car he ever so lovingly dubbed Baby. He's nicer to the car than me. But he saved my life, and I think he needs someone around. He drinks a lot, but I think it was worse before I adopted Baby's back seat as my bed on these late night drives. There isn't a moon outside. It just adds to the darkness. Takes away from the light? One time I asked him if there are more monsters during the full moon or new moon. He didn't answer.

He speaks.

"Lex?" His voice is quiet, barely louder than the soft music coming from the radio. It's usually louder, but he turns it down when he thinks I'm asleep. The first time he kept it loud, I had a nightmare and woke screaming. We almost ran off a bridge. It was the first time he took me on a hunt with him. I usually stay at whatever motel he finds now. I'd just get in the way otherwise.

I ignore him.

"Lex, we're going to a motel. Next town I find." I don't know why he tells me, but I welcome the idea of a bed, as lumpy and funny smelling as it might be. As much as I've grown to love Baby, she hurts my back. I think she hurts Dean too. He would never admit it though. She's the most beautiful thing in the world to him. He likes the car better than me. Sometimes I wish he would leave me. But he never does.

Dean started singing softly. He only does that when he thinks I'm asleep. I like it when he sings. It reminds me that he's human. The song is "Dust in the Wind." Something new. I don't complain. I just curl up into a ball. Hug one of the few things I have from life before Dean. A teddy bear. Teddy bears are supposed to protect little kids the monsters in the night. I guess I'm too old to be protected. Still, it feels nice to have the bear. I start to drift away, the rare lights of a car passing us and Dean's soft voice lulling me to sleep.

Sometimes I wish we could just drive forever.

* * *

_"You'll always be mine, Lexi, baby. You'll always have me with you, you can't get rid of me! You're mine! Mine! MineMineMineMineMineMine!" Grabbing, not letting go. Let go, let go, don't touch me!_

I scream for Dean.

"Lex, hey, wake up, kid!"

She won't let go. I punch, I scream for Dean.

"Lex! Wake up!"

My eyes open, eyes burning with tears. My throat is raw from screaming. My heart is pounding and I can barely breathe. I don't know where I am. Not in the car anymore. Where am I? My eyes adjust to the faint light coming from a lamp on a nightstand and I see Dean's emerald eyes. He's holding my wrists. He has a red smudge on his forehead. My hand hurts. Did I punch him? He doesn't look mad though. Just tired.

I start crying.

"Shh," he says softly, pulling me into his arms. I let him. He rocks me, says soothing things. I don't hear any of it. I don't think he knows though. I keep crying, my face buried in his chest. His shirt gets wet, but he doesn't pull away. He always sleeps in his clothes. I do too, but I wear basketball shorts and PJ pants all the time. He wears jeans. Blue jeans. That must be uncomfortable, but he never complains.

"It's okay, Lex, it was just a bad dream," he says softly. He knows better than to call me Lexi. I shake my head in his chest.

"She won't leave me alone," I whimper. "Why won't she leave me alone?"

He doesn't answer. I'm afraid of the answer anyway. "It's okay, it'll be okay," he whispers. I don't believe him. I don't think he believes himself. He hums softly, rocking and rocking. I fell asleep in his arms.

* * *

I open my eyes to sunlight. I open my eyes to a white ceiling. I open my eyes more tired than when I fell asleep. I didn't have to look around to know that he was gone. He always leaves in the morning. And it'll be like last night didn't happen. Why dwell on the past? He seems to do it all the time. Hypocrite. I sit up, blinking as I glance around. His bed is unmade, like always. He knows it irks me, but he says that it's housekeeping's job anyway. There's a note on the nightstand closest to my bed.

You better be up when I get back. And start looking for a job for me.

Dean

I can barely read that chicken scratch he calls his handwriting. I can't help but wonder what kind of feedback I'd get out of it if I send it to a handwriting analysis. It scares me to even think.

I make my bed, then his. He'll make fun of me when he gets back. Or he'll ignore me. I haven't really figured him out yet. Sometimes he acts like I don't even exist, then there are times like last night. Like I'm all he has. I wonder what he'd say if I called him Dr. Pellinore Warthrop. I smile a bit as I go to his bag. He keeps the laptop there. It's old, but when I suggested a new one, he didn't talk to me for two days.

I start with making sure the motel has Wifi. It does. If it didn't then I'd have to find the nearest library. First time I didn't, Dean didn't talk to me for a few hours. The time after that, I forgot to leave a note. When I got back, he was getting ready to go find me. He had his duffel full of weapons and a deadly look in his eyes. He threw holy water on me, then didn't talk to me for the rest of the day.

I get on Pandora first. Use my headphones because Dean doesn't like when I use the computer's speakers. Something about busting them. I don't care. I have good headphones. Once I have some Lana Del Rey serenading me, I go to Reddit. I go to nosleep. Most are crap. Well written, terrifying crap, but not something I need.

The story is called "Doppelganger." The redditor has a weird unpronounceable name. It comes with a newspaper link. The article is about several murders. Bloody. The murderers are arrested, but people keep dying. Dean doesn't like shape shifters, but it'll give him something to do. Hunting makes him happy. I save it and keep looking.

* * *

Well, there you have it. Should I keep going, or is it complete crap?


	2. Everyday

I wait. He doesn't come back. I stay in the room. If I leave, he gets mad. It's stupid. The computer runs out of battery, but I don't have the charger. It's in the car. With Dean. And he isn't back yet. I bet he's getting drunk. Getting laid. Maybe he finally left me. The motel has crappy cable channels. I settle on a Syfy movie about some octopus shark thing. I can't say when I fell asleep. Before the main character thinks of a brilliant idea to take down the beast.

I open my eyes to darkness. The TV is off. I fell asleep with it on. Is Dean back? I hear something move by my bed. I smell alcohol. I smell cigarettes. He doesn't smoke. Must have been a bar that allows smoking.

"You up?"

I'm tempted to ignore him. He left me. I haven't eaten since lunch yesterday. "No."

"Smartass." Neither of us speak for a second. I hear his bed groan as he falls into it. I can feel the trembling floor through my bed. I wait for the thump of his shoes falling, but it never comes.

"You should take off your shoes," I say quietly, not moving. He grumbles something. It's followed by the sound of his shoes hitting the floor. I smile before closing my eyes to sleep again. There's a sigh from Dean's bed.

"We're leaving tomorrow, Lex. Where're we goin'?" He's asking for the job. I wonder what will happen if I tell him that I didn't find one.

"Harrisburg, Pennsylvania," I say softly. "Shifter."

"I hate shifters."

"I know." I pause. "I think there's a witch in Colorado, but the Shifter is closer."

"Awesome."

* * *

We drive for hours when we wake. Dean is still hung over, so food is out of the question. I stay in the backseat. I like the backseat. It has more room and I can't just sit around for hours. It doesn't feel right to sit in the front. It seems to be reserved. I haven't asked by who though. I'm scared of the answer. After a while, Dean looks back at me through the rearview mirror.

His hair isn't in his usual faux hawk. His eyes are red. Tired. He looks like he wants to just stop. He looks like that a lot. It's either that or his suicidal mindset that won't let him leave a town until the big bad is dead. I wish we could quit. We never do though. So, here I am in the backseat of a car named Baby.

He speaks. His voice is rough. Raw and cracked.

"You look kinda pale."

"So do you," I respond, resting my head on the back of the bench seat he sits on. "I have an excuse. I'm almost ginger."

"Does being hung over count for anything?" he asks lightly. I think for a second. Just for show. I already know my answer.

"No. That was your own stupid fault."

He just rolls his eyes. "It seemed like a good idea at the time." He pauses and looks at me. Not through the mirror, but actually turning his head to look at me. My head hurts, my temple throbbing. I wonder if he can see it.

BoomBoomBoomBoomBoomBoom.

"You feeling okay?" He asks. He looks to the road again. I wonder what my answer will be. Am I fine? Am I just tired? Maybe I'll go with guilt trip and tell him I'm hungry. But I'm not. I just feel empty. I feel numb. I close my eyes to think.

BoomBoomBoomBoomBoomBoom.

"Lex."

I open my eyes. The light is dimmer. I look out the window. We're parked in front of a diner. The sun is low. Dean turns off the car. He looks back at me. He has a funny look in his eyes. Concern? Depression? He always has depression in his eyes. He sees how I have the bear in my arms. Something else flashes in his eyes. I don't know what. I'm too busy wondering when I grabbed the bear.

"Come on, you need food," he says finally. He gets out and I follow him. My legs protest. My knees hurt. I'm not sure why. Maybe the car shrank. I doubt it. Dean never complains about being cramped, and he's huge compared to me. He holds the door open for me, following me as I walk in.

The greasy smell makes me feel sick. I don't say anything. Dean doesn't like it when I complain about our food choices. I think he might have grown up on these types of places. I didn't. My old town didn't even have a diner. The thought of my old home makes me feel sicker than the smell of the food. I follow Dean as he sits in one of the booths. I slide into the seat across from him. He stares out the window at the car, then at me. He opens his mouth to say something, but a waitress walks up and cuts him off.

She's young. She's pretty. I have a feeling Dean's going to sleep with her. He's flirting. She calls me his daughter. He doesn't correct her. I wonder why. He orders a burger. It's a diner that offers breakfast all day. I get pancakes. He gets soda to drink. I ask for strawberry milk. I like strawberry milk. I'm sorry, sweetie, we don't have strawberry milk. I ask for chocolate milk. It'll have to do. The waitress leaves. Her name is Sherry, I think.

"You look like crap."

I ignore him. The jukebox is playing. Oldies. Music Dean doesn't like. I like the oldies. A song by Buddy Holly comes on. Dean makes a face. He opens his mouth, probably to call it stupid, but stops. I lay my head on the table. I listen to the music and close my eyes.

_"Everyday, it's a-gettin' closer, goin' faster than a roller coaster. Love like your's will surely come my way."_

Sherry comes back with our food. We eat in silence. I don't finish my second pancake. I'm not very hungry.

* * *

Decided to go ahead and put this one. Still okay? Dunno when the next will be, so yeah. Feedback is awesome. I got some awesome feedback for the last one. Awesome feed back makes me feel... well, awesome.


	3. Do You Know What I'm Seeing?

"Come on," Dean says, throwing away my blankets. I make a face and curl into a ball. Why doesn't he let me sleep? Jerk.

"No." I keep my eyes closed. He lets out an irritated sigh.

"Lex, get up."

"Why?" I can't help it. I whine. He doesn't like it when I whine. I don't like it when he makes me go on hunts with him. We've been in good ol' Harrisburg for about two days. I've been hiding in the motel the whole time. Dean brings me food. I don't eat it. He brings it anyway. I don't think he notices. He doesn't notice a lot of things.

"Because, I think this son of a bitch knows I'm here. I can't leave you here anymore," he snaps.

"I'll lock the door."

He scoffs. "Yeah, right."

"You do wonders for my self esteem," I mutter. He doesn't say anything for a second. I peek up at him, wondering if I said something to make him mad. He doesn't look mad. Worn out and weary. That's what he looks like. I fight the urge to ask him if we can just leave. Leave the job for some other hunter. I haven't met any others, but Dean can't be the only one.

He has dark circles under his eyes. Emerald eyes. Dull now. They must have been bright once. They must have been happy. Laughing. I can't picture Dean happy. He's never happy. Always angry or tired or depressed. He's nicer when he's tired. He knows I'm tired too. He looks at me, then away. As he grabs the keys from the nightstand closest to his bed.

He speaks. His voice is strained.

"Be ready when I get back."

"I don't want to go."

"Lex, don't argue." he grabs his jacket from the chair it hangs from.

"Why-"

"Lex!"

I stay silent as he goes for the door. He reaches for the doorknob. "Where're you going?"

"Food." He pauses. "What'd' you want?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Gah dammit, Lex!" he exclaims, throwing down his jacket and whirling around. The vein in his neck is big. It gets like that when he gets mad. It takes me by surprise. "Why do you have fight everything?" he demands. I stay silent. He takes a breath. His voice is softer. "You need to eat. You haven't been eating."

He noticed? Weird. "I haven't been hungry," I say quietly. He picks up his jacket.

"Be ready when I get back."

* * *

He debates on whether or not to leave me in the car. I didn't say anything. I'd rather stay in the car, but I know he wouldn't listen. He'd probably make me go with him just to spite me. After a second, he speaks.

"Alright, come on."

I don't say anything. I'm mad. At least that's the vibe I'm hoping to give off. He doesn't say anything about my silence. Maybe I'm going about this all wrong. Maybe I should be singing and shouting as loud as I can. Maybe I should give him hugs and say he's the greatest person I've met. Maybe that would make him feel guilty. Maybe it'll make him mad. Would he get so mad to leave me somewhere? I'm still not sure if that's what I want.

We go around back behind the car. Dean pops the trunk and I look around. It's cloudy, dark. Ominous. Maybe it'll rain. Is rain good or bad in this city. Back home it was good. Dean hands me a flashlight. I look up at the construction zone we'll be sneaking into. The city was building a new bank or something. Something happened along the way and they had to stop. All the murders have been around this area.

Dean nudges my arm. I look at him. I want to ask him if I can please stay in the car. I think he knows what I want to ask. Or maybe not. He ignores me, so maybe he's mad at me too. I follow as he makes his way to the back gate we are parked by. He looks around, making sure no one is looking before cutting the lock. He throws the lock cutters to the side. I look at them for a second before following him in.

"Stay close," Dean says sternly as we walk to the unfinished building. It's big. Has to hold all the money. Lots of money. How, when everyone complains about not having jobs. What's the point of making a new bank if there's no money to put in there. I make a mental note to ask Dean when we're done, but scratch it almost as soon as I think of it. He doesn't know about jobs. He uses fake credit cards. I just sigh.

He opens the door, but this time he goes first. It's dark. Dark and dusty. Maybe they stopped making it because there isn't any money. That would make sense. Dean turns on his flashlight and I do likewise. Dean pulls out a gun. I don't have a weapon. I hope it isn't here. That would make me so happy. Not Dean, but I really don't care.

There are support beams everywhere. Plastic covering hangs with spiderwebs. Abandoned tools lie scattered. A couple of the hammers are bloody. The newspaper said the cause of death was blunt force trauma.

I step on something squishy. Did a dog get in? Gross. I pick up my foot and point my light down. My stomach drops and I can't help but feel happy that I didn't eat.

"Dean."

The hunter looks back as I start to rub my shoe on the ground, try to get the liquidy skin off. Never wearing these shoes again. Dean makes a face. He points his light all around us. It's everywhere.

"Well, we're in the right place."

There's a crash from somewhere in the back. I freeze, staring at where my light is pointed. Dean gives an angry curse. He doesn't see what I see.

"Shit." He starts for the general direction the sound came from. I don't think he notices how I'm not following. Or if he does, he doesn't care. Eyes stare into the light. Blank eyes. Dead. Blood stains the girl's light brown hair. I can only stare. I walk up to the body. Even with the blood, I can tell she's young. She's pretty. I guess Dean didn't sleep with the waitress Sherry after all.

Dean calls out.

"Lex!"

He sounds pissed. I remember how he said to stay close. I can hear him coming back. He's being loud. He's never loud. I look away from the dead eyes, now right in front of me. He comes back from where he went, half carrying a crying girl. Light brown hair. Pretty. Young. Sherry.

"I told you to stay close!" Dean snaps. I stare at the Sherry he has. Then back at the one I stand in front of. Dean says something else, then freezes. He sees what I see. Sherry sees what I see. She screams. I look up to see what Dean is going to do. As I do, the dead eyes blink.


	4. Sherry

And more Blue Velvet! And a cover photo! Eh, I don't like it too much. Maybe I'll get rid of it.

* * *

"Lex!"

I step back, tripping over my feet. The dead Sherry lunges, and my fall is the only thing that gets me out of the way in time. But she keeps falling. I kick, catching her in the stomach. She falls back with a shriek. Dean must have let go of the real Sherry. The shifter jumps again, but he catches her arm. A piece of her skin sticks to his hand as he throws her back. He steps in front of me, his gun pointed at the shifter. It looks up at him. He doesn't hesitate. He pulls the trigger.

She falls back into a red puddle of blood. Brain matter still clinging to skull bits litter the floor behind her. I can only stare. The real Sherry is screaming. ScreamingScreamingScreaming. Crying. Then she's quiet. Did she pass out? I don't look. I just stare at the body. How human it looks. Dead eyes. This time really dead.

Red. Too much red.

My vision blurs. I shake. Dead. He didn't even think. He just did it. Pulled the trigger. I feel numb. Emeralds block my view of the red. Far away, someone speaks. Or maybe right in front of me. I can't tell what it says. A hand lands on my shoulder.

"Lex, you alright?"

I blink. Dean is kneeling in front of me, blocking blood. His eyes look weird. Concern? I nod. I look past him at the blood.

"Don't look at it," he says. I don't listen. He helps me up, makes sure I won't pass out like Sherry. I don't. He goes and picks her up. "Come on, we need to get her out of here."

I nod. I follow him to the door. I pause before going out. I thought I saw someone standing by the dead Sherry. When I look, I see nothing. Just red.

"Lex!"

I walk out.

* * *

She has a busted lip. Her blue eyes are laced with red line and are puffy from crying. Her hair is still wet from the shower she just took. She sits on a loveseat with Dean. I sit on the recliner. We're in her house. Dean's explaining what happened. I've seen this all before. It's just that this is the first time I've seen it with a shifter.

"So, that... thing," she spits the word in disgust. "That took me was a shapeshifter?"

"Crazy, I know," Dean says lightly. I think he still wants to sleep with her. She probably will sleep with him too. He saved her life. I think that's how he gets a lot of his girls. A simple guess.

They keep talking. She invites us to stay here. Her roommate is out of town, so her room is empty. I don't think that's supposed to be for him though. I don't want to stay, but I know better than to say anything. Dean agrees without even looking for me. I pull on my too long sleeve of my too big hoody.

"I need to pee," I say quietly. Dean throws me an annoyed look. Sherry nods.

"It's up the stairs, last door on the left."

"Thanks."

I follow her directions. I pass a little table in the hall. There's a picture of two girls there. One is a blue-eyed Sherry, the other is a dark-haired girl. I decide that's the roommate. I feel a pang of jealousy. Both girls are smiling. Real smiles. Real happiness. I shake my head and go to the bathroom.

When I get back, the two look ready to make out. I clear my throat. They jump apart. Dean throws me yet another annoyed look.

"Um, I can walk back to the motel. It's not that far."

Dean hesitates. Sherry doesn't say anything. She waits for his answer. She doesn't want to be rude. I helped save her life, after all. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key. The key to our room.

"I have my key. Don't answer for anyone. Let me know when you get there."

I nod. I take the key. Sherry watches, and I see how she's happy. She wants Dean as much as he wants her. I start for the door, shaking my head as the intimate conversation continues behind me. I will never understand human nature. I don't think I want to.

* * *

I text him when I get to the room. He doesn't text back. I don't want to know why. It starts raining. I turn on the TV. There's nothing on. Syfy has a Ghost Hunters marathon. I decide to watch it. I used to love this show. But then Dean happened. It makes me feel sick after a while. I turn off the TV and get my iPod out of my pocket. The motel has Wifi. I get on Reddit. I stay on for a while. About two hours.

The storm gets worse outside. I wonder if Dean will come back tonight. Not likely. He'll stay the night. Come get me in the morning. Never call Sherry back. He's shameless. My head hurts. BoomBoomBoomBoomBoom. Music helps headaches. I get out my headphones from my bag and hook them to my iPod. I go to push start.

There's a knock. I freeze.

"Lex! Let me in! I lost my key!"

I make a face. Of course he loses his key. Loser. I roll off the bed. Do these places charge for replacing keys? I hope not. Oh well, fake credit card anyway. I get halfway to the door, then pause. I frown. They must have been quick. Dean is never back this early after having a lady friend to entertain for the night.

"Lex! It's freezing! Hurry up!" he snaps, pounding on the door. I hesitate. I shake my head. I'm being stupid.

"I'm coming, hang on!" I call, starting for the door again. I reach for the lock. my pocket vibrates. I frown. Who? I fish the phone out as I turn the lock. I put it to my ear without looking at the ID. The door opens and Dean shuffles in. He closes the door behind him. I ignore him and turn to head back to my bed.

_"Hey, Lex,"_ Dean says through the phone. He sounds a bit breathless. I don't have to guess why. That isn't what disturbs me. My stomach sinks. _"Some stuff came up, I'm not coming back tonight. Make sure you lock the door."_

I back at the Dean standing at the door. He looks at me. "What?" he demands. I look at his eyes. No emeralds. Muddy brown.

_"Lex? You there?"_

"Oh." The Dean standing behind me sighs. "It's him, isn't it?" My mouth goes dry. He killed the shifter. "Damn."

Pain. Black.

* * *

DunDunDuuun!

Because since when is anything that easily killed?


	5. The Cave

My head hurts. My temple throbs. BoomBoomBoomBoom. The floor is cold. Hard. I hear the rain. Crash goes the thunder. I move my fingers. Just to make sure I can. Just a little. Not enough to draw attention. They feel numb. Something digs into my wrists, keeping my hands together. It hurts. I keep my eyes closed. I try to take in a breath through my mouth. A rag between my teeth makes it nearly impossible. The rag pulls at the corners of my mouth and hurts my cheeks. I listen. Listen, Lex. Like Dean tells you. Only the DripDripDrip of a leak. Where is the leak?

A skittering. A rat running across the hard floor. Cold floor. I want to get up. I open an eye. Only one.

Darkness. Silhouettes dance. I don't know if it's because of my headache. I blame it on my headache. I blink. My eyes adjust, slowly. Something small hangs from the ceiling. Swings. Back and forth and back and forth. Something runs past my face. A rat. I pull back in disgust. Footsteps. A shadow looms by the dark spot I think is a doorway.

A cruel cackle.

"Well, what a prize I've won here." The voice is female. The shadow gets closer. An arm reaches up and pulls on the small swinging thing hanging. I squeeze my eyes shut at the sudden light. "The great Dean Winchester's pet."

I peek up at the woman. Shifter. She— it— wears the skin of Sherry's roommate. She smiles. Or sneers. The light hurts my head.

"You're a small little thing," she comments. She holds a hammer in her hand. It drips red. She drops it. "Made it easier on me." I don't answer. I wouldn't if I could. She advances. She crouches by me. A cold hand lands on my cheek. It leaves and tangles itself into my hair. My cry is muffled. My eyes burn with tears. She pulls me up to my knees. Pulls my face into her own. But it isn't hers. My head hurts.

"What will he do, I wonder, when he sees your broken little body?" She says with a snarl. She rips away the rag. Lets it hang around my neck. Waits for my answer. I take a breath. I look into her eyes. Muddy brown.

"Kill you."

I'm thrown down. My head bounces off the hard floor. My vision blurs. I blink to see her stand. Grab the fallen hammer. My head hurts. BoomBoomBoom. Get up, Lex. Get up. I don't. She comes back with the hammer. She sneers. Brings it up. I kick. Like earlier today. She lets out a shocked screech and drops the hammer. It falls to my side. I reach for it. She grabs my shoulder and throws me back. Closes her hands around my throat. Squeezes.

I gasp. Breathe, Lex, breathe. I claw at her face. She brings back her fist and slams it down on the side of my head. Blurry vision. I kick. My eyes water. My lungs burn. I call out. To whom?

"Dean!" I gasp. The shifter grins. Wicked eyes dance.

"He isn't here, little girl."

I don't care. I scream. Kinda. Gasp. My hands reach out to the side. My fingers touch something. They close around a handle. I swing as hard as I can, as best I can with my hands bound. The sharp end of the hammer connects with the side of her head. Her muddy eyes bug out as the wedge digs in. I hear it crush through her skull. She's freezes over me, her grip around my throat loosens. Her blood falls on my face. Warm blood. I rip out the hammer.

Dean lied. You don't need silver.

She falls. Blood soaks my hoody. I push her off of me. Gasp, chest heaving with greedy breaths. I stare at her. Scoot as far away from her as I can. My back hits a wall. Blood bubbles, oozes from her head. Brain matter slides out. Like worms. So much red. Too much red. I don't know how long I stare. It's cold. The blood on my hoody soaks through. It isn't warm anymore. My fingers are numb. My wrists are raw. I think they're about to bleed. Heavy footsteps fall outside. Someone calls out.

"Lex! Kid!"

How stupid. If she wasn't dead, he'd be screwed. I don't answer. I can't. My voice is gone.

"Le—!" He freezes at the door. For a second he doesn't move. Just stares. I stare with him. He speaks. "Shit." He runs to me, jumping over the body. I feel warm hands on my cheeks. On her blood. "Lex! Look at me, kid," he says softly. I don't. I can't move. He curses. He looks down, and curses again. He releases me. Pulls something from his pocket. He flips his pocket knife open and cuts the rope around my wrists. He throws it away, puts his knife away, and I fall into his chest.

My head hurts.

BoomBoomBoomBoom.

* * *

Well then. Stay tuned for scenes of the next ep- yeah, I'm not doing that. Just gotta wait and see. Reviews are always cool. Constructive criticism or what ever it's called also rocks. Be all like, Yo, Triz, you sucked at spelling (word I sucked at spelling) or whatever. Anywhooos, hope you enjoyed this segment of Blue Velvet!


	6. I'll Be Fine

**Howdy! Back with more Blue Velvet! I've kinda been sidetracked with the third Monstrumologist book. Those books is amazing (expect references in here! Well, not this chapter, but soon!). And there's, like, no fics on here about it! What's up with that?! I'd try, but shoot, I can't understand half the stuff Warthrop rambles about. And I'm still on this. So enjoy!**

* * *

He carries me, I think. My hoody is gone. It's colder. My mind doesn't work. I close my eyes. Arms hold me gently. His voice cuts through the darkness. He speaks softly. His voice and the swaying lull me away. I open my eyes. I'm in Baby. The front seat. It feels strange. He keeps the music off. A warm hand brushes away the hair sticking to my forehead. I close my eyes. I open them. Swaying again. He sets me down on something soft. I sit stiffly. I stare. So much red.

He speaks. His voice is anxious. I've never heard him like that. It scares me. But I can't speak. Can't move. Too much red.

"Lex. Talk to me, kid," he says softly. A wet towel wipes away the shifter's blood. I don't move. I feel empty. "Lex, please," He pleads. The towel goes away. A warm hand touches my cheek. A rough hand, calloused and scarred. But warm. I don't move. All I see is red. Bubbling. Trickling red. My eyes burn with tears. A lump forms in my throat. He takes my hand, holds it in his. Presses it to his lips. "I'm sorry. Lex, I'm sorry," he whispers. Something warm falls on my hand. Wet. Like the blood before. I yank my hand away. Too much red! I look up. A tear falls. I don't wipe it away. More take its place in my eyes.

Emeralds. Shiney emeralds. Pained emeralds. A sob escapes my throat. He pulls me into his arms. Holds me tight. I let him. He speaks softly, presses his lips to my hair.

"I'm sorry, Lex. I'm so sorry."

* * *

_The town was called Old Lobo. The restaurant was called Tami's. The girl called herself Lex._

_He walked in, an air of melancholy following him like a lost puppy. His clothes were wrinkled. His eyes were bloodshot. He was in the stages between being drunk and being hungover. Everyone noticed, but ignored. He walked in at a busy time of day. The place was packed. There were no tables. A waitress, an older woman, catches him as he's about to leave._

_"We're kinda full right now."_

_"I can see that."_

_"People are sharing tables."_

_"You don't say."_

_"Let's see if we can find you one."_

_He tried to protest, but she caught his arm. Pulled him off to what looked like an empty table. But no. There was a girl sitting there. She was a small thing, Bent down over papers and books. Her auburn hair fell over her face, so he couldn't see her face. Homework. He remembered homework. He felt bad for the kid. The woman chided the girl. "Lexington, clean off your table."_

_"Why?" the girl asked without looking up._

_"You're sharing. And put away those papers! You're scaring people!"_

_He looked at the papers the girl had as the waitress practically pushed him into a chair opposite of this Lexington girl. They were police records. They were website printouts. They were his kind of papers. He stared at her for a second. She look up and smiled at him. He froze. Her eyes._

_"Hi! I'm Lex."_

_One hazel, one a soft green. He shook his head. They stayed. He cleared his throat._

_"Dean."_

_The waitress smiled brightly. "See, we're all friends here at Old Lobo."_

* * *

I open my eyes to a dim light. The sun struggling to break in through tightly closed blinds. My head hurts. My throat feels raw. I wonder where I am. In a bed. Lumpy and uncomfortable, but a bed. I turn my head, see the window across the room, see that there is not another bed, and see a figure sitting in the chair next to my bed sleeping. I wonder what happened.

_Too much red._

I remember. My breath catches in my throat. It makes a funny noise. The figure stirs before sitting up with a start.

"What?"

I blink as Dean looks around wildly, then down at me. He freezes. He relaxes.

"Oh. You're up." I nod, open my mouth to speak. My throat is dry. Nothing comes out. "Hang on," he says gruffly. He stands. His back pops and he grimaces, but he doesn't say anything. Why is there only one bed? He comes back with a bottle of water. I start to sit up. The movement makes my head spin. "Slow, Lex," he warns.

I slow down. He opens the water and hands it to me. I take it. I drink too fast. He yanks the bottle away and brings up the small trash can by the bed in one fluid motion. Nothing even gets on the bed. He looks away as I empty my stomach, clinging to the bin as if my life depended on it.

"I told you slow," he sighs. I don't answer. I can't.

When I'm done, he takes away the bin without so much as a crinkled nose. He hands me the water. "Slow," he says sternly. I fill my mouth, slosh around. He holds the bin back out to me. "Spit." I do as told. Why is he good at this? It doesn't make any sense. He sets the trash away and sits back in his chair, hand at his forehead like he had a headache. I take a small sip of the water. Small. I don't like throwing up. He studies me. I wonder if he'll get mad. Now that I'm alive. He doesn't speak.

I do. Kinda.

"Sorry," I croak quietly. He offers a weak smile. It doesn't reach his eyes.

"Not the first time I've seen someone throw up, kid."

I look down. That isn't what I meant. He realizes this. He sits up. "Kid-"

"It said it lost the key," I rush, my voice an airy whisper. "I thought-"

"Hey," he stops me. I look down at my hands, my raw wrists. "The bitch got me too, Lex. I didn't think..." he trailed off, realizing his near fatal mistake.

"Yeah, but you didn't open the door."

He falls silent. He stays silent for the rest of the day.

* * *

**Lex and Dean's first meeting! Woohoo for flashbacks! Wonder what Lex's papers were... No, seriously. I'm still trying to figure that out myself. Other than that, I have, like, a bajillion ideas for this story. **

**Anywhoos, you dudes are awesome. Keep being awesome. **

***Ninja Smoke Bomb away!***


	7. Language Lessons

**Thanksgiving! Pie! Woohoo! You know what I'm thankful for? Pie. I love pie. How do I go the whole year without apple pie? Anywho, here you go.**

**Also, in response to X1Sweetie1X, nope, no romance. Strictly platonic. Maybe I should give Dean a love intrest though... Thoughts?**

* * *

We drive. He makes me sit in the front and doesn't let me sleep a lot. Something about my head still being Jell-O, even though three days have passed since Harrisburg. I don't remember much after the shifter took me. I remember I killed her. It. Whatever. I don't remember Dean finding me. I don't remember anything after that. Just waking up.

I haven't seen my hoody. I don't think I ever will. It makes me a little sad. That was my favorite hoody. My only hoody. I'm cold. Dean keeps his music on. He's nicer. I still think he likes Baby better, but he tries, so I guess that counts.

"We should listen to Mumford and Sons," I say lightly, glancing up at him to see what he has to say about it. He gives me a funny look.

"What the hell is a Mumfor Son?" he asks, as if it's something he'd hunt.

"Mumford and Sons. They're a band. Folksy." I pause and smile to myself. "They use a banjo."

He bursts out laughing. I look up at him, startled. He laughs hard, his eyes almost closed. Like he hasn't laughed in years. I've only known him for a few months, maybe he hasn't laughed in years. His eyes water and I get scared that he'll run us off the road. He takes a breath.

"You must have hit your head pretty hard if you think I'm gonna play banjo music in my Baby," he says finally. I frown.

"Johnny Cash?" I ask.

"Eh."

"Eh?" I demand.

"He's alright sometimes." He laughs to himself, as if enjoying some sort of inside joke. "Folsom Prison Blues." I roll my eyes.

"Lana Del Rey?" I try.

"Spanish? Hell no. If I can't understand it, it's not playing."

I give him a funny look. "She isn't spanish music, you loser." He throws me a look. "She's, like, I dunno, cool."

"Hot?"

"I hate you sometimes." I cross my arms and look out the window.

"Gee, thanks, kid, love you too." I can feel him looking at me. I could hear the smile in his words. He tousles my hair and I smack his hand away, shooting him a look of daggers as I smooth down my now bed head. He chuckles lightly. "How have I not told you the music rule in this car? Rule numero uno to traveling with Dean Winchester, Lexington: Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts her cake hole."

"Jerk," I mutter. He opens his mouth to counter, stops himself. He looks at me for a second. Shakes his head.

"Loser."

* * *

Dean Winchester has an unhealthy obsession with diners. The place is nearly empty. The employees look ready to shoot themselves. There's one fairly good-looking girl. As we make our way to a booth, Dean leans in to my ear.

"Think she's legal?"

I elbow him and sit, leaving him to nurse his side in his laughter. He keeps a sly smile on his lips as a waitress comes and hands us menus. Dean orders a couple of cokes for us. The woman leaves without a word. He opens his menu and I look around. It feels too quiet. It feels bare compared to our usual pit stops. I glance over at Dean.

"So, whatcha gettin'?" he asks nonchalantly. I shrug and flip open the booklet.

"Not very hungry."

"You're never hungry. But you need to eat. You're too small," he points out, making a face. I glare at him, then down at my menu. "Seriously, kid. You scare me sometimes."

He tries to sound casual. Tries. I don't look up. I remember when I could eat anything. Stomach of Steel, my friends called me. I'm just not hungry anymore. "I'm not hungry," I say quietly, closing the menu and pushing it away. Dean sighs.

"Damn," he mutters, looking out the window. "That isn't healthy."

"But I'm not hungry," I say, my frustration leaking through my voice. He looks back at me. He looks annoyed.

"I don't care, you need to eat."

I open my mouth to argue, then decide angry Dean isn't something I want to deal with right now. I look out the window and wish I still had my jacket. It's always cold now. My head hurts again. The waitress comes back to take our orders.

"I'll have a cheeseburger, all the fixings," Dean says lightly, as if we didn't almost start a war. "And she'll have the same." I shot him a look of disbelief, but the woman leaves before I can say I don't want anything.

"Dean!"

"You need to eat!"

"I'm not hungry!" I exclaim, ignoring the looks I get from the other patrons. Dean looks around, giving an easy smile before glaring at me.

"You haven't been eating right, Lex," he says harshly. I look away, annoyed. "Lex."

"What?"

"Look at me." I throw a sideways glance his way. "That's not what I mean." I glare at him. He studies me. Shakes his head. "Damn, you're as bad as Sa-" He stops himself. His eyes get dark with melancholy. I frown. He never talks about people before me. It was like he came from nowhere with no one. Curiosity grips me.

I'm not a cat. Why do I have to worry?

"Who?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "Forget about it."

"But-"

He shoots me a look and I know better than to go on. I look down. He sighs. Changes the subject. "What's up with your eyes? I've been meaning to ask."

I crinkle my nose. He smiles a bit. "It's called heterochromia."

"And I'm supposed to know what that means?"

"It's when the pigment is off. One eye is one color, the other is lighter, or a different color altogether. It's weird."

"You're telling me." He grins lazily. Looks out the window. He frowns and narrows his eyes. I follow his gaze and see a big black truck park about two places away from the impala. A trio of men jump out, laughing. Dean lets out a hiss and low curse. "Shit."

"What?" I ask, just a little alarmed. He shakes his head and quickly looks away from the window.

"They're coming in, aren't they?" he asks. I look out the window. One of the men, a dark-haired guy, catches me watching. He stares at me and I stare back. I'm not one to back down from a staring contest. Unless it's Dean. Because then I know I'll lose. The man disappears behind a car and I look back at Dean. I nod.

"Yup."

"Shit."

"Why shit?"

He shoots me a look. "Watch it."

"You say it all the time!"

"I'm older. Your elder. You're not supposed to talk like that around your elders."

I give him a flat look. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously. When I was your age, if I talked like that, my dad would kick my ass," he says knowingly.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Sounds old-fashioned," I say simply before taking a sip of my coke. "Why haven't I met him?" Dean is taken aback by the question. I can tell from the look in his eyes. He hesitates.

"This job doesn't exactly have the highest life expectancy," He finally says.

"Oh. So you learned monster killing from him?" I ask. He nods. "You have any kids to teach?" The question comes out before I can stop. He looks at me funny for a second. Opens his mouth to answer. He never gets a chance.

"Dean Winchester! You sneaky son of a bitch!"

Dean whirls around, alarmed. I look passed him at the trio of men from the truck. They laugh. Dean slouches.

"Shit?" I ask lightly.

"Shit," he agrees.

* * *

**Sam references! Also, Word of the day: Heterochromia. Real thing. Reddit was obsessed with it for, like, a day a while ago. Unless I spelled it all wrong...**

**Happy thanksgiving! **


	8. Family Goretrait

The men walk up grinning. The other customers, a couple of older people at the counter, ignore them. Dean makes a face. He looks like he wants to shoot himself. I frown. Who are these guys?

"Dean, man, where ya been?" one of the men say, clasping Dean on the shoulder. Now he looks like he wants to shoot the group. I'm surprisingly okay with that. "Who's the kid?" the man asks, his dark eyes looking me over. I shift uncomfortably. Dean notices.

"What do you guys want?" he demands darkly. The first guy to talk raises his hands in defense, and one of the others continues the conversation. This one is blonde.

"We just pulled in. Thought that beauty outside was your's. Long time no see, man." He pauses. "You kinda dropped offa the map since-"

"Yeah, well, I've been busy," Dean says curtly, glancing around for what I'm guessing is an excuse to leave. We haven't even gotten our food. The blonde doesn't take the hint. He slides in next to Dean, a lopsided grin plastered on his face. Dean takes in an irritated breath.

"Man, we've heard the craziest shit about you," he says as the other two men sit in the booth behind Dean. "Heard you took out a whole town of Shades! By yourself!"

My stomach twists. Dean looks at me. There's an apology in his eyes. His eyes darken as he glares at the man sitting next to him. "Look, man, we were just leaving..." He trails off when the waitress comes back with our other guy arches an eyebrow and Dean just stares his food for a second. Behind him, the dark-haired man I had a staring contest with snickered.

"You? Leaving before you get your food? Damn, Dean, end of the world really fucked you up, didn't it?"

I frown. Dean's eyes turn deadly as he shoots a murderous glare back at the guy just smirks. The blonde attempts to act as referee.

"So, uh, what're you going after now?" he asks lightly. Dean shakes his head, then gives me a look when he sees me just poking at my food. I make a face and grab the ketchup, empty it on my fries. I eat one. He seems pleased with himself.

"I'm between hunts right now," he says nonchalantly. "Ran into some trouble over in Harrisburg a few days ago, trying to take it slow for a while." He glances over at me. The hunter next to him- I'm pretty sure he's a hunter-follows his gaze.

"Oh. Well. We're going after some demons over in Lansing. You should come with."

Dean shakes his head. "Nope, no thank you." I cock my head to the side. I haven't seen Dean go after a demon. I don't even know what they look like. Maybe he keeps it like that on purpose. The hunters seem shocked by Dean's answer. I frown, munching on a fry. Maybe I can get Dean to talk about his life before me once we leave. He glances over at me. "You done?"

"Yup."

"Didn't even eat," he mutters.

"Neither did you."

He shoots me a look, but doesn't argue. "Right, well, we're gonna go." He pretty much pushes the other hunter out of the way to get out. I slide out and follow him. "See ya round, guys," he says without much enthusiasm. I'm tempted to wave, I want to quote _The __Hangover_- "So long, gay boys!"- but decide against it. There's something wicked in the dark haired man's eyes. I don't want to piss it off.

* * *

Why do we always have to drive? I sit in the back, iPod blasting in my ears, my bear in my arms. My back is sore. My butt is numb. My mood is sour. Dean's music is too loud, almost drowning out mine, even though mine is coming from earbuds. After a while, I rip the earbuds out and lean up next to Dean.

"Why do we always have to drive?" I can't help it. A whine coats my voice. He glances over at me. He isn't as annoyed as I thought he would be.

"As opposed to what kind of transportation?" he asks. I shrug.

"I dunno. A plane? At least it wouldn't take so long."

He shakes his head. Even though it's getting darker, I can see how he pales ever so slightly. "No. Fuck that shit, no. There is no way in hell you will ever get me in a plane," he says sternly. I stare at him in a bit of shock. Then laugh.

"You're a pansy!" I gasp, falling back into the seat, holding my stomach with my laughter. "You're afraid of planes!"

"I am not!" he snaps hotly. "Stop laughing! I'm not afraid!"

"Yes, you are! Oh, gawd, you're afraid of flying!"

"Lexington! You stop laughing!" he orders. I gasp for air, falling to my side. I can see Dean on the plane, screaming like a little girl. When I can finally talk, I sit up and look at him. He glares at me. "You done?" he demands. I let out one last giggle.

"Not really. How can you be afraid of planes?" I question, grinning. "You kill monsters for fun."

"For fun? Kid, you are sadly mistaken."

I frown. I had seen the look in his eyes when he kills monsters. It was scary. It's as bad as the monsters themselves. He loses himself. That's one of the main reasons I don't like to go with him. I open my mouth to argue, but decide against it. Instead:

"Dean, when did you start hunting?"

He looks at me for a second before turning his attention back to the road. I rest my chin on the backrest of the bench seat. He clears his throat.

"Um, well, uh, I've been doing this since I was a kid," he says finally.

"'Causa your dad?" I ask. He nods. "When did he start?"

"Er, when I was just a kid. Four." He doesn't look away from the road.

"Why?"

"Why?" he repeats.

"Why?" I confirm. "I mean, he couldn't have just been like, 'I'm bored. I feel like killing something.' That would worry me just a bit. Your mom couldn't have been cool with it."

He's silent for a second and I can't help but worry that I said the wrong thing. Finally he speaks. "Uh, my mom was killed by a demon when I was four," he says softly. I stare at him. I feel stupid.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. It was a long time ago."

"Did he kill it?" I ask. I know I should probably stop asking questions.

"No." He pauses. "It got him before he could get it." His eyes darken with melancholy. Then something that scares me. "So I killed it. Took us almost twenty-three years, but we got the son of a bitch."

"Were you and your dad close?" I ask through a yawn. He smiles a bit.

"Close as you can be when your father son bonding time was salting and burning bones."

"That's cool."

He glances over at me. "What about you, half-pint? Anything interesting before I fucked everything up?"

I frown. "You didn't mean to." He doesn't say anything, so I just shrug. "Nothing too great in my back story. I finished school about a month before you came into town."

"Nerd. How the hell did you do that? You're, like, twelve."

"You jerk, I'm fifteen!" I snap. He grins.

"I know, I know. I was just messing with you. Go on."

I shoot him a warning glare. He smiles. "Um, I'm boring. I didn't do anything."

"Family?" I hesitate. He glances over at me. "If you don't wa-"

"Nah, I'm cool." I frown. "I never knew my dad. Bailed town before I was born. My mom remarried." I clench my jaw, feel my face get hot with anger. "He drank a lot."

"I drink a lot."

"You never hit me." I hold the bear tighter. Dean looks at me in shock. I close my eyes. Yawn.

"Sorry."

"No worries."

The rest of the drive is silent.

* * *

**Back stories are always fun. Also, I kinda stole the Shade thing from _John Dies at the End_. I'll explain what they are later. If you've read that book, you might know which one's I'm talking about. If you haven't read it, Read It! That book is hilarious! **


	9. I Will Follow You Into the Dark

We stand over the grave of one Eliza Marley. Well, Dean is in it. He grumbles as he digs. I just watch, hold the flashlight, rock on my heels and hum. It's cold, but I didn't want to stay in the car. Not that I'm uber excited to see Dean burn the bones of a crazy lady that killed girls because she thought they were prettier than her. Then she went and did it after she died. Crazy old hag. It starts to drizzle. Dean lets out a curse. He straightens, his back giving out a series of painful pops. I frown. He has to still be hurting from when the Marley threw him into a table yesterday. I wasn't there- he refused to bring me along on this one-, but he came back limping.

He catches me staring.

"Jacket," he says sternly. I look over at his jacket, hanging on the headstone by Marley's. I go and grab it, hold it out to him. He stares at it for a second. Shakes his head. "Not me, loser. You. Last thing I need is you getting sick."

"Oh." I look at it. It's the one he always wears, his leather one. It doesn't have a hood, but considering my short sleeve shirt and shorts, I'm not going to complain. Still. "But what if you get sick?"

He just laughs. "I don't get sick."

"Hmm." I put on the jacket. It's warm. The sleeves are too long and I have to push them up. I don't complain. "Thanks." He just grunts. Goes back to digging. After a while, there's a thump. I watch as Dean uncovers the last of the dirt to reveal a box. Without a single hesitation, he rips the lid off. A pile of bones in a tattered dress. Clumps of hair still cling to the skull, but it doesn't smell as bad as I thought it would. Dean makes a face before climbing out.

I hand him the salt and gasoline. It was by the same headstone his jacket was on. He takes it. "Thanks, half-pint."

I crinkle my nose. I'm not sure how I feel about the new nickname. If it's not half-pint, it's kid. Or loser. Nerd. Two days have passed since the diner. This is his first hunt since. He's slowly stopped using my name and replaced it with nicknames. It's weird.

My hair starts to frizz. I sneeze when he empties the gas and salt on the bones. He shakes his head at me. "Shoulda stayed in the car," he mutters. I don't say anything. He pull out a cheap plastic lighter from his pocket and holds it out to me. "Wanna grill the bitch?"

Despite the morbidity of the offer, I offer a small smile. "Do I just throw it in there?"

He nods. "Yup." He hands it to me. It takes me a couple tries to get a flame- my hands are freezing, my fingers don't really want to work. When I finally got it to work, I let it fall into the grave. Before it even hits the bottom, a ball of flame explodes with a small pop. We take a step back. I remember how in my ninth grade lessons, it talked about how fast gasoline evaporates. A spark just has to touch the vapor and boom!

We stand there, staring at the fire, a comfortable silence settling between us. The drizzle becomes a light rain, then heavy rain. I sneeze again. Dean looks down at me. He picks up the shovel from where he dropped it and nudges my arm with his free hand. "Come on, loser."

I follow him, the fire's warm glow behind me and the darkness of the cemetery in front of me. I don't like the dark. Dean smiles down at me. I smile back. The dark doesn't seem so bad anymore.

* * *

Three days since Marley. Dean doesn't take back his jacket. I stay curled in a ball in the back. Hug my bear. I sneeze. My head hurts. In the front, Dean mutters something. Then, "How you feeling, kid?"

"My head hurts," I croak. My throat feels raw. I want to tell him I'm cold, but decide against it. He already has the heater as high as it'll go. His face is red because of it. He doesn't complain though. I feel bad. Maybe I should have stayed in the car. He got me medicine, but it doesn't want to work. I cough, pulling his jacket tighter around me.

"Dean."

"Yeah?"

"I don't like being sick," I say quietly. I hate how it comes out like a whimper. He's quiet for a while. I notice how his music isn't as loud as it usually is. I close my eyes. It starts to rain. I hear it hit the car with a soft PatPatPat. Dean curses. I don't have to look up so see him turn on the wipers. If I didn't want to shoot myself, I'd find it all calming.

* * *

"Lex. Hey, wake up, kiddo," He says softly. I shake my head, hold the bear tighter. I don't feel good. Well. Whatever. "Lex." I hear a door open, then close. The door my head is by creaks open. "Hey." I squeeze my eyes shut.

"Lemme 'lone," I mumble. A hand touches my forehead. He curses.

"Damn. You're burning."

"Wanna sleep."

He sighs. The door closes. I try to go to sleep. Sleep doesn't come. Annoyed, I struggle to sit up. It makes my head spin, but I manage it. It's still drizzling. I frown. Where are we? I see Dean go up to a run down old house. Is he gonna hunt something? I look around. It doesn't look too great. There's a fence, and behind it I can see how there are old cars stacked up. I look back at Dean. He's waiting at the door.

I open the door. he doesn't notice. I stay there, door open. I feel sore. I don't want to get up, but I don't want to just stay in the car. I'm sick. I don't know what I'm thinking. He knocks. I see, don't really hear. My head hurts. The door swings open. A man stands there. He's older. He wears blue jeans, a t-shirt, and a plaid over shirt. A trucker hat covers his greying hair. He looks at Dean in shock for a second. I blink away sudden light headedness and when I open my eyes, he's hugging Dean. Dean hugs him back. I frown. The man speaks.

"Damn, son, took you long enough!" he exclaims. He doesn't see me. "I should beat your stupid ass."

"Yeah, missed you too, Bobby," Dean laughs lightly. Bobby? He never talked about a Bobby. My head pounds. How do they not hear it? I close my eyes. Dean's talking.

"...Won't eat... Sick as hell, I didn't know..."

My head hurts. BoomBoomBoomBoom. Everything feels wrong. Wrong and broken. Like something wants to rip out. Alien? Call me Newt. But she doesn't die like that. I close the door. Tighten my hold on the bear. Feels dark. I don't like the dark.

Where's Dean?


	10. When Dreams Become Nightmares

**Yay! Bobby! Introducing characters is so fun. Also: Woohoo! hit ten!**

* * *

His name is Bobby Singer. He acts like Dean's dad. His house is a mess. BookBookBook. So many books. I sit on an old couch. The couch sinks. He speaks and I don't listen. Dean tries. I try to listen. Something drowns him out. Why can't they hear it? It screams. ScreamScreamScream. I ask Dean to make it stop. I beg. StopStopStop. He can't hear it. Why not?

It screams.

_LetMeOutLetMeOutLetMeOutLetM eOut_

Why can't they hear it?

* * *

_"So," he started after clearing his throat, breaking the silence. He found it awkward. The girl was too busy looking over her papers, making little notes. "What's all this?"_

_"Huh?" she looks up, surprised to see him there. "Oh. Forgot you were there." She laughs lightly to herself. Dean liked her laugh. It was bright. "Um, weird crap is going on here. It's always been going on, but lately it's, like, really schizo." She shrugged. "I'm bored, so I figured why not look into it."_

_Dean arched his eyebrow. He almost asked if she was a hunter, but decided against it. Kid was too young. Sure, he started younger than her, but still. She didn't look like a hunter. She still had that innocence in her eyes. What she did, she did for fun._

_"Define weird stuff," he said with a small smirk. Maybe it's his kind of thing. One last hunt before being with Lisa and Ben. One last hunt before giving it up, before keeping his promise. Lex looks up at him again._

_"Weird? Oh, well, there's Ole Miss Fletcher," she says, grabbing a single paper and handing it to him. "She was seriously the most awesome old lady ever. Cutest_ _little thing. Her pies are awesome. And then she started adding arsenic in the recipe."_

_Dean looks up at the girl in shock. "In pie? What kind of monster does that?"_

_"Dunno," Lex said with a shrug. "She said something about people being unworthy, blah blah blah. Then there's that kid Jesse."_

_"What'd he do?" Dean asks, still scanning the sheet about Miss Fletcher._

_"Drain-o in his mom's coffee." She pauses. "Which is weird, because he was a major momma's boy."_

_"You don't say."_

* * *

I'm cold. The screaming turns into a low hum. Dean sits in a chair next to the couch I lie on. Bobby is across the room in a sort of library. Lots of books. He's reading one. Two. Three. He looks tired. Like Dean. I close my eyes. The light hurts my eyes. The dark doesn't like me. It isn't fair.

"What was she saying about the screaming?" he asks gruffly. Dean sighs.

"Let me out."

"That's what it says?"

"Yeah."

There's a pause. Rustling of papers. "Could she be possessed?"

"No." Dean's voice is hard. Challenging. "I've tried holy water, silver, everything when I took her. She has the Anti-Possession tattoo. Made sure it was the first thing she got."

"The Shades?"

Dean hesitates. "They couldn't get in her."

"What do you mean, 'They couldn't get in her'?" Bobby demands. His tone scares me. Before I can stop, a whimper gets out. The hum gets louder. A cool hand touches my forehead. Brushes the hair from my face.

"It's okay, Lex," Dean says softly. The hand is gone. I think his next words are to Bobby. "It couldn't get in her. It was, like, she had a built in protection. They couldn't touch her."

"Dammit, Dean, that would have been some good info a long time ago," Bobby grumbles. There's a loud slap as a book is slammed shut.

* * *

_Red. Everything is red. Too much red. Blood. Broken bodies, scattered. Muddy brown eyes. The shifter. Her eyes bug out. The side of her head is a mess, brain matter oozing out of the hole made by a hammer. The hammer I used. She grins. Crimson liquid slides into muddy brown eyes. Falls like tears. I want to scream. Want to scream for Dean. Can't. Nothing comes out. She holds a hammer. It has pieces of skull stuck on it._

_"Do you remember this?" Her voice is slurred. Her tongue is purple, it hangs out of her mouth. "Do you remember killing me with it?"_

_DeanDeanDeanDean. I want to scream. Instead:_

LetMeOutLetMeOutLetMeOut

_Bits of her face slide off. She melts. Like the Wicked Witch of the West. She holds up the hammer. I can only stare. She lets it fall. She explodes._

* * *

I open my eyes to darkness. My head pounds. I sit up. It makes me dizzy. The room is empty. Well, of people. Books. Lots of books. Someone walks in. I expect Dean. Bobby looks at me in a sort of shock. He clears his throat, turns on the light. I squeeze my eyes shut. The light still hurts my eyes. When I open them, he's still looking at me.

"Hi," I manage. My throat hurts.

"Hi," is his curt response. He must realize how rude that sounds, because he clears his throat. "We didn't really get a proper introduction, huh?" I shake my head. "Right. I'm Bobby."

"Lex," I say. I look around. "Where's Dean?"

He goes to a desk with books. Why does he have so many books? "He went to get food. Figured you'd be hungry when you wake."

"I'm not."

He looks at me. Studies me for a while. I wonder how old he is. Old enough to be Dean's dad. Why does he wear a hat inside? I wonder what he'd look like if he shaved. "He mentioned that."

"What?"

"You not eating."

"Oh."

"You're not anorexic, are you?" he demands. I shake my head.

"I'm just not hungry anymore." He stares at me. Shakes his head. "When is Dean coming back?" I ask.

"Dunno." He pauses. "You had quite a few nightmare when you were out."

"I get them a lot."

"Do you ever remember them?"

I start to shake my head. Stop. "Not for long. I forget them before I can make any sense of them. I just know I don't want them anymore."

He nods. A door opens. I can hear it. I think it's the front door. Heavy footsteps echo in a hallway, make their way to the room I'm in. Living room.

"She u-" Dean freezes when he sees me. "Oh. Hey."

"Hey."

"Feel any better?"

"Head hurts." I almost add BoomBoomBoom.

* * *

**Yay for Bobby! Dunno if I did him any justice, but expect a lot of him!**


	11. What's Said and Done

**Back! School's been dumb. Started reading _Berserk_ again. Ran into just a tiny block. I knew where I wanted to go, but not how to get there. But I'm back now.**

* * *

I shower. It feels awesome. I give Dean back his jacket. I try to eat. It makes my stomach churn and I end up losing everything in Bobby's trashcan. Dean has a funny look in his eyes. So does Bobby. I think they're worried. It's not my fault food doesn't like me anymore. My head hurts and I'm cold. I don't feel as bad as before, but I still don't feel amazing. I get a room upstairs. It's cluttered, but not nearly as much as downstairs. I stay in the bed.

Dean checks on me. He tries to sound casual, but he isn't. He looks tired. He needs to shave.

"Hey, half-pint," he says lightly. I look up at him and sit up.

"Hey."

"How you feeling?" He sits on the bed when I pull up my legs to cross them.

"Like my head wants to explode."

"Want medicine?"

"Doesn't work."

We stay silent for a while. He speaks. "Bobby says there's a rugaru in the next town over." I look up at him, knowing where this is going. "I figured, since it's not that far away, I could go check it out." He pauses, looks at me. I don't say anything. "You cool with hanging out here with Bobby 'til I get back?"

I want to say no. I want to make him take me with him, or have him stay here with me. I don't want him to leave me. But we don't always get what we want. I nod. "What's a rugaru?"

He smiles, throws himself back into the bed. "It's a guy. Normal guy. Then he get's hungry. And eats all the time."

"You eat all the time."

He makes a face at me. "Yeah, but I'm not eating people."

"Oh. Kinda like a Wendigo?"

"Not exactly."

He spends the rest of his time explaining the differences. I want to point out that the differences don't matter as long as the thing is killed and he comes back. Instead, I listen and hope I never cross paths with either.

* * *

The next morning he's gone. It isn't until then that I realize I left my bear in his car. I stay in the room for the most part of the morning. Bobby calls me down. I trudge down the stairs to find him in the library/study/living room. He's sitting at the overflowing desk. He looks up at me.

"You look like crap."

"Thanks." I start to go to the couch, but he holds out a book to me. I frown and take it. It's old, moth eaten, and smells like old book. Old book smells weird. Sometimes good weird. This is a good weird. I open it, frowning. It's not in English. Before I can ask what it is, he speaks.

"Page 378. Memorize it."

I flip to the page. It has a small poem looking thing. Again, not in English. "What is it?" I ask, going to the couch and sitting. I pull my legs up to cross them.

"An exorcism. I'm guessin' Dean hasn't taught it to you yet."

"I've never even seen a demon." I pause. "But he made me get a tattoo." I point to my hip, on the bone, where I got the tattoo. Dean didn't say I had to have it in a specific spot, and I always wanted a tattoo there. Even though I was only with him for about two weeks at that point, I could tell he didn't like my choice.

"Smart. Now memorize."

He goes back to his book. I stare at the words for a second. I get the concept of a couple of the words. _Te_ in Spanish is you,_ Spiritus_ has to mean spirit, _Satanica_ kinda explains itself, _Infernalis_ is kinda like inferno, _Draco_ is dragon, _Libertate_ must have something to do with freedom. Still. It's going to bug me not knowing what it all means. I pull out my iPod. "Do you have Wifi?" I ask. He lists off a series of numbers. The password. I type it in, then go to my Google Translate app. I copy the exorcism. I frown.

"The last part doesn't make sense."

"Huh?" He looks up, as if he forgot I'm here.

"Doesn't make sense. The first part does, but not the last."

He shakes his head. "It don't need to make sense as long as it gets rid of the damn things."

He has a good point, so I shut up. I stare at the book, the words slowly making sense.

* * *

"Bobby?" He grunts, showing that he's listening. "Is there such thing as an Anthro... er, an Anthropoph... us?"

"Anthropophagus?"

"Yeah, that."

"Not anymore." He looks up at me. "Why do you ask?"

I shrug. "I read this book called _The Monstrumologist_ and those were the monsters. I couldn't really picture them."

"They were some nasty bastards," he mutters. Then goes back to his book. Dean's been gone three days. I memorized the exorcism. Bobby let me pick whatever I wanted from his shelf. I have a book about form changing monster. I'm on the chapter about skinwalkers. I feel bad for the Navajos.

"Bobby?"

"What?"

"What about zombies? Like, George A. Romero zombies?"

He goes quiet for a while. I wonder why. Then he nods. "Yeah."

"Gargoyles?"

"What?"

"Gargoyles. Like the old Disney show. They turn to stone at day, living flesh at night. I loved that show. Watched it all on YouTube." I smile, thinking about how awesome Goliath is. Bobby shakes his head.

"Gargoyles? Lemme guess, they were the good guys?" I nod. "Gargoyles ain't the good guys, ya idjit. They're mean. They're territorial. They favor virgin hearts, but when they're really hungry, they'll settle for the town whore."

I pout. "Way to ruin my childhood."

"Kid, the monsters are never good. They can act good, they can look good, and they can even help you out. But I can guarantee one thing. It ain't you they're lookin' out for. Trust me."

I frown, notice how his eyes get dark. He speaks from experience. I wonder what happened. I almost ask, then decide against it. Instead:

"Bobby?"

"For the love... What?"

"When did you start hunting?"

He hesitates. "Long time ago."

"Why did you start?"

He looks at me, an annoyed look plastered to his face. "You ask too many questions." He shakes his head. "Word of advice, Lexington, don't go askin' that question to every hunter you meet. You won't like the answers."

I stay quiet for a second. Then, "But you didn't answer my question."

He glares at me. Counters with: "Why did you start?"

I frown. "I'm not hunting."

"Oh?" He smirks. "Coulda fooled me."

"Dean let me stay with him."

"Why?"

"He didn't tell you?"

"Yeah, he told me. But from you."

I look at him for a second. Then down at the book. Then up at him again. "'Cause I didn't have anywhere to go."

"Why?" I don't answer. He shakes his head. "See. Ask only the questions you're ready to answer." He goes back to his book. My head hurts.

* * *

**Ah Gargoyles. I kinda made all that up. I can't really see Goliath eating a virgin. I know it's a dark shoe for being Disney, but dang. Ah well.**


	12. Blue Velvet

**Well. This chap has the same name as the story. I couldn't help it. I love this song so much. Seriously. Homework Assignment. Listen to it. It's awesome. Know what isn't awesome? Having to read transcendental stuff for English. XP **

* * *

There's someone downstairs. I go to see who it is. The lights are off. Bobby went to bed a couple of hours ago. Maybe he got up. Maybe it isn't human. I'm half-asleep, the thought sounds impossible right now. It's the middle of the night. Everything should be asleep. Even the big bad wolf. The stairs creak as I go down. There are heavy footsteps coming from the living room. A thump. Like something crashing on the couch.

I peek around the door. There's a figure sitting, lounging on the couch. Slouching. Melancholy. A cloud of melancholy rains in the room. I reach out and flip the switch. There's a curse, even though the light is dim. A bulb went out and Bobby has yet to replace it. An arm goes up, blocking his eyes, and I frown at the bottle in his hand.

I sigh and turn off the light.

"What're you doing up?" Dean demands, annoyed. First words to me in four days. I shrug off the sting and make my way to the couch. I sit next to him. His shadowy form raises the bottle to his lips. I hear his greedy gulps and notice how he manages to slouch even more. Something tells me that isn't his first beer tonight. I think he feels me watching him. "What? I can't drink?"

"I'd rather you didn't," I say softly.

"Tough luck, kid."

His voice is harsh. Hunter's mindset. I hate his hunter's mindset. I shake my head. I stand, start back for the stairs, then pause. Look out the window. I want to see the stars. How long since I've seen them? Seen the night as something pretty rather than something to be feared? Dean doesn't say anything. Not until I go back to him. Grab his hand. The empty one. I've learned not to take alcohol from an irritable person. Not that Dean's like that, but sometimes old habits die hard.

"What?" He's annoyed. I don't care. I struggle to pull him up. He throws his head back. "Lex, lemme alone." I ignore him. After a second he finally stands. He drags his feet. He protests the whole time. But he doesn't pull away his hand as I lead him outside.

The night is cool. I almost wish I had a jacket. Or a sweater. But I don't have one anymore, so I don't say anything. The moon is full, providing light. Dean mutters curses. He empties his bottle and throws it away. I make a mental note to grab it in the morning. I look around. Bobby's place doesn't offer many stargazing spots. I find myself in the Car Graveyard. Bobby usually doesn't let me back here. Something about being a girl and getting hurt. I almost punched him when he said that.

A patch of grass. Dying grass, but there's still a little green left. I let go of Dean's hand and go to it. Lay down. Fold my arms behind my head to use as a pillow. The hunter lets out an irritated huff.

"What're we doing?"

"Looking at the stars," I say simply. I smile. It's been too long.

"Why did I have to come?"

"Figured it'd be good for you." I pause. "But if you want, you can go back inside." He grumbles. I think I catch the word stupid. I decide not to hold it against him. He's drunk. I hear the shuffle of his feet. It leads away. I can't help but feel a little disappointed. Ah well. I take a breath. The night is a thing of beauty. Why do we have to be afraid of it?

"_She wore blue velvet_," I sing softly. "_Bluer than velvet was the night_." I don't care if Dean can hear me."_Softer than satin was the light from the stars_." I remember when someone used to sing that to me. I remember a sweet voice. I remember falling asleep to that song. But I can't remember who it was. "_She wore blue velvet_..."

I close my eyes. Shuffling feet. He really needs to pick up his feet. I wonder what he's doing back. Probably going to make me go back inside. I wonder if he'd get mad if I said no. He doesn't say anything. I feel him standing a little ways away from me. He breathes like he wants to cry. I want to ask what happened. I know it couldn't have been this last hunt. He's been like this. Must have been before me.

"_Bluer than velvet were her eyes. Warmer than May, her tender sighs. Love was ours_." He sits. His knees are slightly bent, his arms resting on them. He has something in his hands. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him look down. He looks up. His eyes shine. Maybe it's the alcohol. Something tells me it isn't. He just drinks to get numb. He lets out a shaky breath. He holds his arm out to me, the thing in his hand. I look up at him. It's my bear.

He gives a weak smile. "You left it in the car."

I take the bear. It's black glassy eyes reflect the moonlight. Dean lays back. His arms are outstretched. Open. A simple gesture. But not to a hunter. To leave yourself open is to give up. I reach out and take his hand.

It's like being hit with a brick wall. So much depression. So much rage and fear and sadness and feelings of betrayal. So much pain.

Does he notice that I feel his emotions? How they scream at me? Does he feel like this all the time?

He looks over at me. I give a small smile through watering eyes. I want to tell him he isn't alone. I want to tell him I'll be by his side as long as he lets me. I can't get the words out. I think he knows what I mean though. His eyes water. He looks up at the sky. The stars. I follow suit.

"..._Blue velvet. She wore blue velvet, but in my heart there'll always be precious and warm a memory through the years, but I still can see blue velvet through my tears_."

* * *

**Ah. Depressed Dean. Poor Dean. I'm still thinking of a way to maybe get Sam in here, but there's still a while before I have to worry about that. Suggestions?**

**Anywhooos, reviews are always welcome. **


	13. Untitled

**Back! I can't think of a title for this one, so it's just gonna stay untitled. Because I'm lazy like that. Anywho, enjoy! Or not. The choice is your's. **

* * *

"Bobby said gargoyles eat virgins," I say through a mouth full of ice-cream. Dean looks down at me, as if shocked I knew such a word existed. I bring up another spoonful of the cookies 'n' cream goodness, glancing up at him.

"When did he say that?" he asks, turning his attention back to the TV, where the Manhattan Clan is saving the day. It's almost three in the morning. Dean's been back a week. I can't sleep and we conned Bobby into buying ice-cream earlier. Dean wanted pie, but Bobby was already out of the door when he yelled it after him.

"While you were gone," I say simply. "I asked if there were such things as gargoyles and he totally ruined my childhood." I frown. "I can't see Goliath eating some chick's heart."

"Yeah, but Maza kinda comes off as a slut to me," Dean muses lightly. I glare at him. He grins. "Bet she'd be hot if it was live action."

I smack him and he laughs, a bit too loudly. "Will you two idjits shut up down there!?" Bobby shouts from his room. I roll my eyes as Dean struggles to stifle his laughter.

"What comes up after this?" he asks once he can breathe again.

"_Jake Long American Dragon_." I make a face. "I don't like that show."

"Then maybe you should go to bed, loser," he advises. "It's way past your bedtime."

I give him a flat look. "No." I grab the control. "Let's see what's on Adult Swim." Dean shakes his head, muttering something along the lines of "need a beer." He stands. I hold out my empty bowl to him without looking up.

"What am I? Your maid?"

"Yes. Yes you are."

"Brat." He grabs the bowl, not before messing up my hair.

"Jerkface," I say through a yawn. He just chuckles lightly as he goes to the kitchen. I think he makes fun of my comeback, but I don't care. I change the channel, only to find myself in the middle of an anime fight scene. I frown at it for a second, trying to figure out what show this is. Dean comes back, a bottle in his hand. He flops down on the couch, throwing his arm with the beerless hand up on top of the backrest of the couch behind my head. Makes a face.

"Now what're we watching?" he demands. "It's not even English!" he complains, seeing the subtitles.

"Dunno..." I stare at the TV for a second. I read the subs, then grin. "_Uragiri_... er,_ wa Boku_..." I trail of, not remembering the whole name. Dean looks at me like I'm schizo. "Er, in English it's called _Betrayal Knows My Name_." I pause. "It's awesome."

"You don't say," he mutters. Then, "So what's going on?"

I watch a little. It's the episode when Yuki first uses his power to heal Tsukumo. "Um, the kid with glasses is possessed by this demon thing and he's trying to kill Yuki."

"And Yuki is..?"

"The dude that kinda looks like a chick."

"They all kinda look like chicks."

"The dude they call Yuki. Strawberry hair."

"Half of them have strawberry hair!"

"Just read the subs!"

He grumbles, but falls quiet. I guess he's reading. After a second, "And that Zess dude, is he, like, gay for that Yuki kid?"

I hesitate. "Kinda. I think. Not really sure on that."

"How can you not be sure on that?" he asks, looking down at me. I shrug.

"Okay, well, Luka, er, that's Zess's real name, has been looking out for Yuki ever since he was born."

"Why?"

"I'm getting there," I snap, throwing him a look. He just smiles. "In his past life, Yuki was a chick. Luka is a demon, so he just lives on and on. Immortal. He and Yuki fell in love, he switched side in the war to be with her."

"War?"

"Yeah, there's this war that's been going on forever 'tween the demons and these people. Anywho, Luka left them to be with chick Yuki, but chick Yuki died and was reincarnated as dude Yuki. Zess is still looking out for him and he's like, the only one he's ever nice to. It's cute. I kinda want them to get together."

Dean looks down at me, just a little grossed out. "Really? Wow. That's gross."

"But they don't. It made me mad." I make a face. "They were having this moment at the end of the last episode, but nooo! The other losers ruined it!" I pout. Dean shakes his head, brings his bottle up.

"You're weird, half-pint."

I just make a face. Yawn. I lean into Dean's side. He tenses for a split second, I almost don't catch it. But then he relaxes. Drops his arm around my shoulders. I glance up at him, catch the light smile on his lips.

* * *

I don't open my eyes. I'm not on the couch anymore. Someone carries me, I think. I can't tell. My mind doesn't want to work. I can't open my eyes. Tired. Swaying. Dark. Good dark. I'm not alone in this dark. Safe.

A door opens. I hear it creak. Bobby needs to fix that. Most of his doors creak. I'm set on something. A bed? My bed. I curl into a ball, reach for my bear. I can't find it. Then, it's in my arms. I hold it tight. Blankets are pulled up. A warm hand brushes the hair from my face. A scarred hand, rough and calloused. It doesn't matter, it's warm.

He speaks. The words don't make sense, but I feel like they're important. I wish I could wake up.

"You saved my life and you don't even know." His voice is soft. "Lex. I'll always be with you, I'll always protect you." His voice is determined. "I couldn't save Sam, but I promise, I'll save you."

I wish I could understand what he's saying.

* * *

It asks nicely this time. Doesn't scream in my ears, doesn't threaten me.

_LetMeOutLetMeOutLetMeOut. Please._

It speaks softly, as if to a child. I am not a child. There's still urgency in its voice. But this time it's scared. A trick. I shake my head.

Go away. You're a monster. Bobby says all monsters are bad.

_NotAMonsterNotAMonster. Please. LetMeOutLetMeOut._

It sounds like it wants to cry. Tricks. It must be tricks. It's bad.

Go away. Leave me alone.

_Can'tLeaveLexCan'tLeaveLex. LexIsMeIAmLex. DyingDyingDying. IDieLexDie._

Liar. It's a liar. I'm not dying. Stupid monster.

_NotAMonster. StupidStupid LetMeOutLetMeOutLetMeOut!_

Bright light. Soft light. Warm Light.

_LetMeOutLetMeOut. Please._

* * *

I wake feeling like something hit me upside the head with a hammer. The thought brings up painful memories. I get up. My head spins, my stomach lurches. I close my eyes for a second. I take a breath.

I manage getting down stairs without dying. Dean and Bobby are already up. They're in the study. I hear them talk about a possible witch about a day's drive from here. Dean sees me first. Something flashes in his eyes. Concern?

"You okay?"

"Head hurts," I say. He frowns.

"You getting sick again?" I shrug. Bobby looks up from his book.

"There's some Tylenol in the drawer by the silverware."

I nod. "Thanks." I can feel them looking at me as I start out to the kitchen. I find the pills with little problem. I look for a cup. The only clean ones are glass. I make a mental note to wash dishes once I feel better. I grab a cup, notice my hand shaking. I try to make it stop. It doesn't listen. I close my eyes.

BoomBoomBoomBoom.

My vision blurs for a second when I open my eyes. I grab the table for support. I feel lightheaded. Black dots form, SpinSpinSpin. I feel numb. The cup slips from my hand. I collapse. My head hits with a loud smack. Dots blur out my vision. The ceiling is moving.

"Lex, you okay in here- Shit! Lex!"

A hand touches my cheek. I struggle to open my eyes. I see emeralds. Scared. Worried. I can't keep them open. I close my eyes. Feel myself being lifted.

"Bobby!" His voice is urgent.

_DyingDyingDying. IDieLexDie._

* * *

**Oh no's!**

**Still trying to figure out how to bring on Sammy. Reviews and ideas welcome.**


	14. BlueBird

**Alrighty, been almost a week, but I'm back. Lotta stupid stuff keeping me from the comp, my apologies.**

* * *

Voices.

_LetMeOutLetMeOutLetMeOut! IToldYouIToldYou! StupidStupidStupid! DyingDyingDying!_

I hear voices. Through the screams, I hear voices. Dean. His sounds urgent. Why does he sound like that? What's going on? Open your eyes, Lex, open your eyes. I can't. Nothing wants to work. Fear. Pain. I want to scream. Tell the voices to stop. Stop!

"What's wrong with her?" Gruff voice. Bobby. He sounds weird. Silence. I want silence. Why do they have to yell? Where's Dean?

"I dunno, she just... I dunno."

_DyingDying! StupidStupidLetMeOut!_

I can't. Monsters are bad. Bobby said so. Dean says so. Monsters kill. Go away. Go Away. Go Away!

_IDieLexDieIDieLexDie._

GO AWAY!

Silence.

* * *

I see everything. I am nothing. I'm lying on the couch. I see myself on the couch. Her. I hover, above, out of sight. She looks dead. Is she dead? No. Her chest moves. She breathes. Why can I see myself? Her? Dean sits next to her. He has his head down. I can't see his face. He has his hands to his face. A light covers him. A soft light. Why?

Bobby is at his desk. He has several books out. He reads. His hat covers his face. He doesn't have a light. He looks like normal Bobby. Why does Dean glow? Like a firefly. Firefly Dean. Dean the firefly. I look at her. Darkness covers her. Why? Why does Dean have light and she's left to darkness?

She whimpers.

Dean looks up at her. He reaches out and lays a hand on her forehead. I feel it. It's cool. He's always warm. Why is he cool now? The darkness pulls away from him.

"She's burning," he tells Bobby. He takes away his hand. The Darkness comes back. "She was fine last night." He sounds frustrated. "Bobby, this isn't a normal fever."

"Then take her to the hospital." He doesn't look up from his books. Dean stares at him in shock.

"Bobby!"

"What do you want me to do, Dean?" Bobby snaps back. "She's a kid. Kids get sick, it's normal."

"But..." He looks down at her. His eyes darken as he looks back up at Bobby. He opens his mouth to say something.

_LetMeOut! _

She whimpers again. Dean looks down at her.

_LetMeOutLetMeOut!_

"No," she gasps. Dean's expression is coated in concern. Bobby looks up from his books.

"Lex, what's wrong, kid?" Dean asks quietly. He reaches out for her.

_DyingDyingDying!_

"No!"

Dean draws back his hand, as if a snake bit him. The darkness around her grows. Why can't he see it?! Pain. My body feels pain. It's hard to breathe. The darkness tightens.

_IDieLexDie! DyingDyingDying! LetMeOut!_

She gasps. Bobby stands, starts to go around the desk. Dean frowns. "Lex, hey!" He touches her cheek, draws his hand back with a curse.

"What?" Bobby demands.

"She... she shocked me!" Dean exclaims. He looks down at her. The lights flicker. They look around, alarmed. She can't breathe. Can'tBreathe. Gasp for air. Bobby's desk starts shaking. They exchange glances.

_LETMEOUT!_

LEAVE ME ALONE!

She screams. Pain. PainPainPain, so much pain. The window above the couch she lays on explodes. The lights look like something from a rave. Books fly from the bookshelves, papers swirl in the air like a tornado. Bobby and Dean are thrown back. She arches her back, her screams filling the room.

"LEX!"

Dean staggers up and tries to run to her. He's met with a bright flash. It forces him back. The glass of the window hovers above her, each tiny piece shattering all over again. Millions of pieces spawned from millions of pieces. The darkness completely envelopes her.

A flutter of wings. A man stands between her and Dean. He's covered in light. Bright light, brighter than Dean. Wings sprout from his back. How do they not see the wings? They take up the whole room. He reaches. The darkness parts. He touches her forehead.

I see nothing. I am nothing.

* * *

My head feel like it wants to explode. Everything hurts. My eyes don't open. They don't want to. I try. I fail. I try to move. It's like my body isn't getting the messages.

Voices. Voices over the soft buzz echoing in my brain. The voices don't make any sense. I wish I could just open my eyes.

"Cas?!" Dean. He sounds shocked, outraged. Why? "What the hell?!"

"I apologize, Dean. I should have come earlier," a new voice speaks. It's stoic, holding little emotion. "Heaven has been... conflicted lately."

"I don't care about that right now, what the hell just happened?!" he demands. "Lex, what'd you do to her?" Shuffle of feet.

"Don't touch her," the voice, Cas I think, says forcefully.

"Why not?" Bobby demands.

"Because it might awaken what's inside of her. Your strong emotions could kill her."

"What?!" Dean explodes. First time I've heard him so angry. I can feel his anger. Pulsing, crimson and dangerous. It's scary. I hear myself whimper.

"Dean, you need to calm down. You're only hurting her." A cool hand lands on my forehead. It takes away Dean's anger. "I understand your anger and confusion." The hand disappears.

"Oh, really? I kinda doubt that," Dean snaps. "What do you mean, 'Awaken what's inside of her?'" he demands. "And if you knew something was up, why didn't you come tell me?!"

Breathing gets hard. "Dean! Stop! You're just upsetting her, and that'll lead to another episode," the stoic voice says. "Heaven has many problems that have yet to be sorted. I thought she would be safe for a while longer. I fear I was wrong."

"Safe from what?" Bobby asks gruffly. There's a pause.

"From herself."

"What?" Dean sounds broken.

"Dean." The voice is soft. The voice belonging to the one called Cas. "This child... this girl, the one called Lexington Irving... She is not human."

Silence. This silence isn't good. It isn't the kind of silence I like.

"What?" Dean demands quietly, his voice level and deadly. "What did you say?"

"She is not human. Not fully human, at least." There's a brief pause. "The human in her is fighting off what it feels doesn't belong. It is killing her."

"What's killing her?" Dean demands. "Can't you take it out of her?"

"No. That would kill her in the most painful way possible. She is what we in heaven call a BlueBird." He pauses. "That was Gabriel's favorite bird."

"Gabriel? Archangel trickster Gabriel? What the hell does he have to do with this? He's dead."

"Yes, he is. But it is his grace that created this child."

* * *

**DunDunDuuuun! **

**I know, it sucked.**


	15. Angel

_He walked into the library, looking around to see if he could find the computers. It was a small library, fit for the small town. Dean cursed, knowing it would make his search harder. That Lex kid had been pretty helpful in telling him where it was, not even questioning his sudden interest in the town's strange dilemma._

_When he found the tech center hidden off in a corner, he cursed quietly to himself, seeing how there was just one computer, and that there was someone already there. He started to leave, only to pause when he looked at the person again. Auburn hair. He shook his head, not helping but smirk a bit. He went up to the girl. As he got closer, he saw how she was on the town's newspaper site. He cleared his throat once he was close._

_The girl jumped, whirling around in the chair she sat in. Her mismatched eyes were wide, as if she had been caught cheating on a test. When she actually saw who it was, she let out a relieved breath._

_"Oh. It's just you." She went back to her computer. Dean gave the back of her head a flat look._

_"'Just you?'" he repeated. The girl grinned at the screen. "You still looking for weird shit?" Dean asked. She nodded._

_"Yup. You?"_

_Dean shrugged, grabbing a nearby chair and wheeling it next to the girl. "Yeah. Figured what the hell." Lex gave him a funny look at that. She looked like she wanted to say something, so he went on. "Find anything?"_

_"Not really. It's all the same. Nice person goes berserker. Usually very messy aftermath." Dean nodded, examining the screen. He frowned when he saw the mug shots of the two murderers. Both had bloodshot eyes, red lines circling the pupils. Three layers of color. He could feel the girl's eyes on him. Clear. He glanced at her._

_"What?"_

_"You do this a lot?" she asked hesitantly. As if she didn't want the answer. He sat back._

_"Kinda."_

_Before she could ask anymore questions, something loud rang out three times. Deafening. The girl cried out in shock. Dean narrowed his eyes. He knows that sound, hell, he's the one that makes it the majority of the time. Gunshot. And it sounded close._

_"Stay here," he said sternly, standing and heading out of the library. His hand hovered above where he had his own gun tucked away, hidden from civilian eyes. Behind him, he heard the girl following. He started to tell her to go back, opening the door and freezing at what he saw._

_A man standing in the middle of the street, a shotgun in his hands. Several cars had crashed into each other, swerving to avoid the crazed man. The man cackled, bringing the gun up, level with the windshield of the closest car. Pulled the trigger. Dean heard Lex gasp behind him as blood jumped out and stained the inside of the car. Dean caught her arm, tried to make her look away. She wouldn't. Just stared. He followed her gaze to the man's eyes._

_Blood shot eyes, three layers of color._

_Damn._

_The man continued the action, going on to the next car. Dean could hear the sirens of the police coming, knew they wouldn't be quick enough. He didn't think. Figured that if he was killed, he would be killed saving people. The family death._

_He stepped up, ignoring the girl's hand on his arm. "Are you suicidal?" she exclaimed. He gave her a look, she let go. "Oh."_

_"Go inside."_

_He whistled at the gunman. Dean hated people. But he was pretty sure this wasn't a normal person. That made it just a little more tolerable. Death by monster._

_The man's eyes snapped to Dean. He cocked his head to the side. Sneered. "Hunter."_

_"Name's Winchester," Dean said dryly. "Maybe you've heard of me." Fear flashed in the red eyes. Dean cracked a grim smile. "Thought so."_

* * *

I open my eyes. The ceiling I stare at is cracked. My head throbs. My throat makes a funny noise. It catches the attention of the person sitting in a chair next to the bed I'm in.

"Lex?"

I turn my head, see Dean. He looks tired. He looks relieved, shocked. Looks like he doesn't know what to do. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

"Don't hurt yourself, kiddo," he says softly, reaching out to me.

"Dean, don't touch her."

I look up at the new voice. Dean throws an annoyed look at the man standing in the corner of the room, but pulls back his hand. The man starts for the bed. He wears a tan trench coat over a suit, his blue tie uneven and backwards. His dark hair is messy, his blue eyes hard. They don't offer much solace as they look at me.

"Hello, Lexington," he says simply. I glance over at Dean. He gives me a reassuring smile. A small smile that didn't even reach his eyes. Well, the man in the room is still alive, so that must mean Dean trusts him. I sit up, slowly at Dean's warnings.

"Hi," I croak. Dean frowns. The guy looks down at him.

"Perhaps you should get her some water," the guy says. Dean looks like he wants to argue, but instead just glances over at me. He sighs.

"Don't..." he trails off, searching for the right words. "Just, don't do anything until I get back," he says sternly. Not to me, to the man. He stands, reaching out to me. The guy opened his mouth to protest, but before anything got out, Dean is already tousling my hair.

A calm spreads over me. A reassurance. Like I know that Dean won't let anything happen to me. I look up at him. Emeralds are soft, warm. He offers a small smile.

"Be nice to Cas," he says. I can't help it. I pout. He just chuckles and heads out the door. The man in the trench coat keeps staring at me. Cas, Dean called him. What a weird name.

He speaks.

"What did you feel?" he asks. I look up at him, trying to figure out what he means. He elaborates before I can ask. "When he touched you?"

I frown. What does that have to do anything. I shrug. The man, Cas, stares at me, sapphires burning a hole in me. I shift uncomfortably. "Safe?" I offer. He nods.

"Of course. He wants you to feel safe, he wants you to know you'll be protected, so you felt safe. Protected." He pauses. I stare at him, trying to figure out what's going on. "He must have felt very strongly about keeping you safe, if that's all you felt."

I just stare at this man. When is Dean getting back? Where's Bobby? After a second into our staring contest, I break the silence.

"Um, who are you?" I ask, as polite as I could. He cocks his head to the side.

"Has Dean not told you?"

"Dean hasn't told me a lot about life before me," I admit. The man nods. All is forgiven.

"I am Castiel. Angel of the Lord."


	16. Yakity Yak

**Howdy! I'm back! Don't hate me! I was kinda conflicted as to how to go about the whole Lex angel-ness. But I think I'm okay with how I went about it. Also I got sidetracked by Batman Beyond. I love that show. It's awesome. You should watch it. That's your homework, watch an episode of Batman Beyond. **

* * *

I sit in the living room, my hair still damp from my shower. Dean sits next to me; he's been hovering ever since I came downstairs. Bobby is gone, left to help Rufus with something once he found out I wouldn't die. The Angel called Castiel stands in front of Dean and me, his hands hanging a bit awkwardly at his sides. He stares. I shift uncomfortably and Dean frowns.

"Cas."

"Yes?"

"You're making her nervous. Stop staring," Dean snaps. Cas cocks his head to the side, his face blank, as if trying to figure something out. "Better yet," the hunter goes on, "explain what's going on with Lex."

"She is a BlueBird," Cas says simply, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. I look up at Dean. I am not a bird. He gives the Angel a flat look. I can practically feel his annoyance.

"Meaning..?"

"She is the product of Gabriel's grace." Cas pauses. "He created her."

My head hurts. Dean looks down at me, reassurance in his eyes. Cas narrows his eyes in a scrutinizing way at us. I ignore him. I can't decide if I like him yet. His eyes are unnerving. But Dean trusts him.

"Why?" Dean looks up at Cas. "Why and how did Gabriel make her?"

The Angel suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Well, um, I suppose like most men create children," he says awkwardly, looking away. Dean's jaw drops.

"Gabriel is her dad?!"

"Yes."

"Dean?" I say quietly. He looks down at me. "Who's Gabriel?"

He shakes his head, still shocked. "Trouble. Even in his death." He shakes his head, his jaw clenched. He runs a hand through his hair. "Okay, so, why is she getting all sick then?"

"I told you." There's an air of impatience in Castiel's voice. "The human in her is fighting off her grace." He pauses. "She's dying."

My stomach tightens. My head screams.

"Then fix her!" Dean snaps. "Make them be nice to each other!"

Castiel shakes his head. Dean stares at him. Rage pulses off of him. "I can't."

"What do you mean, you can't?!" the hunter explodes. So much rage. "You're better than ever now, you said so yourself! Fix this!"

"I can't, Dean," Cas shoots back, his voice hard. He looks down at me, then away. "She needs a blessing."

"Then bless her!"

"Gabriel is the only one who can! All I can do is stall it for a while, a week maybe. The symptoms will be back, Dean." Helplessness ebbs from Dean's being, replacing the rage. "I'm sorry. If I could do anything, I would, you know that."

The fire in Dean's eyes is fading. He stares at Cas. Then narrows his eyes. "Then go away."

Shock coats the Angel's features. "Dean-"

"Go away!"

A flutter of wings and he's gone. I stare at the floor. Pull my knees up to my chest and hug them. "Holy crap. I'm gonna die."

"No, Lex," he says quickly, catching my hand. "You're not gonna die, I promise."

My chest tightens. My eyes water. "But, but if the Gabriel guy is dead, and he's the only one that can fix me..." I trail off, a tear escaping. I quickly wipe it away, only for it to be replaced by another one. He pulls me into his lap. Wraps his arms around me. I let him. He's shaking. Or maybe it's me. I can't tell.

"I'll find something, Lex. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you, I promise. We'll find something else."

Fear. He fights off fear, tries to replace it with reassurance. He fails.

* * *

They're being nice. It's making me mad. Dean won't leave my side. Not that I mind, it's just feeling his worry all the time is almost painful. And Bobby doesn't complain as much when I mess with his books. His window has since been replaced. When they aren't being unnaturally nice, they're researching. Researching on how to keep me alive. Dean hasn't slept properly since Castiel left. He's on hunter mode. Nothing else matters but the hunt.

I can't remember when I ate last. Nothing is appealing anymore. I just sit in the study, waiting. Just waiting.

Bobby comes back from the kitchen, two open beers in his hands. He hands one to Dean, who nods his thanks and takes a drink without looking up. "Find anything?" the older hunter asks, quietly. I have my ear buds in, listening to my Dion station on Pandora. Been awhile since I listened to the fifties. They didn't think I could hear. I could.

Dean shakes his head, frustration surrounding him like a dark cloud. "I mean, there's bits and pieces about nephilims, but nothing about Archangel's kids. I'd have better luck looking at Wikipedia!" He shakes his head, running his hand through his hair. "I got nothing, Bobby."

Weakness. Helplessness. Broken. It's been awhile since I've heard him like that. I keep my eyes on the book I'm reading. _Let the Right One In._ Messed up, but without a doubt one of my favorites. If I'm going to die, I want to read it one more time. If I can, I'm going to try the_ Monstrumologist_ next.

"We'll find something, Dean. Don't worry."

The comment makes me mad. They won't find anything. Their just looking to make themselves feel better.

Dean looks over at me. "You alright, kiddo?" he asks warily, louder so I can hear. I clench my jaw, nod once. He opens his mouth to argue, but shuts it. Looks down at his trembling beer bottle where it sits on the desk. "Lex..?"

"I'm fine," I snap. "Is that so hard to believe?" I start to get up, to go outside. It's dark, the stars are out.

"Kid," Dean starts, looking ready to stand as I wrap my earbuds around my iPod. I clench my hands into fist. There's a faint cracking sound. Like glass.

"I'm fine! Can't I just go outside for a little bit?" I asked, my voice coming out a bit more tired than I expected.

"Look, I know you're feeling-"

"Dean! Please!"

The bottle explodes. Dean and Bobby let out curses, hold up their arms to shield themselves from flying glass. I stare in shock. Dean shares the expression, looks at me as if expecting an explanation. My eyes water as Bobby quickly tries to salvage the books.

"I..."

"Lex, kid," Dean gets up.

"I'm going to my room," I say quietly. My head hurts. I want to be alone. He doesn't stop me as I make my way up the stairs.

* * *

**And there you go. Reviews are awesome. So is Batman, but I digress.**


	17. Stay

**Er, hi. Gonna tell you now, I really don't care for this chapter. Just saying. ****Don't expect a lotta updates so soon. I shouldn't even be on here right now. You know what I should be doing right now? Memorizing the Gettysburg Address. And starting a stupid book report. And researching for a dumb presentation. But it isn't as stupid as it should be because we get to choose the subject and I'm doing it over Sam Cooke's song "A Change is Gonna Come." And that's just for English. I still have Chemistry homework, and a test to study for that I have no idea what we talked about for the past two weeks. But anywho, here ya go.**

* * *

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

My head feels like it wants to explode. That annoying beeping noise isn't helping. What is that? My eyelids feel heavy, I can't open them. I try though. There's something on my face and something pinching my finger. I want to get rid of it, but my arms don't want to work. I decide to just ignore the noise and try to go back to the darkness when I hear someone sigh. A tired sigh.

I open my eyes. A white ceiling. With little tiny dots. I turn my head, see a heart monitor, an IV bag with a tube leading to my hand. A hospital? When did this happen. Someone sits in a chair next to the bed I lie on. Face in hands. I don't need to see his face to know who it is.

"Dean?"

His head shoots up, tired emeralds wide in shock. "Lex?" He has dark circles under his eyes. I wonder when he slept last. "Holy shit, kid," he breathes, his hand falling on mine. "You gave us one hell of a scare."

I frown. Try to remember why and how I scared them. Where's Bobby, anyway?

"Uh, why am I in the hospital?" I ask hesitantly, hating how weak my voice sounds. My head throbs. Dean looks at me, concern lacing his expression.

"You passed out again. You stopped breathing."

"Oh." I look at the door. "I don't remember."

Dean reaches out, placing a hand on my forehead. "You feel kinda warm. How're you feeling?"

"Head hurts."

"Your head always hurts."

"Sorry."

Despite the situation, he rolls his eyes. "What are you, Canadian?" I can't help but smile. He leans back in his chair. "Get some rest, loser. Sooner you're better, sooner you're allowed ice-cream."

I smile. "Cookies 'n' cream?" I ask, feeling my eyes close. Dean chuckles.

"I'll kick their asses if they don't have it, then make them get it for you."

"Cool..."

* * *

_LetMeOutNow?_

It sounded wary. Tired. Its glow isn't as bright.

Can't.

_WhyNot?_

Not Gabriel.

_SucksSucksSucks._

I know.

Voices. Echoing, hitting my skull. Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Her fever came back." Dean.

"Have you tried calling Cas?" Bobby.

"No. He can't do anything. He said so himself."

A pause. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Dammit, Dean, don't tell me you gave up already."

"I'm not giving up! It's just..." He trails off. Takes a shaky breath. "Bobby, I can't lose her too. I... I already lost Sammy, I can't lose her too."

"Dean." Bobby says something else after that. I don't know what though.

* * *

MineMineMineMineMine.

_She won't let go. Why won't she let go? She doesn't let me let it out. The light. Nice light. She makes me stay in the darkness. I don't like the dark. Monsters hide in the dark._

LeaveMeAloneLeaveMeAlone!

_She grins. Wicked eyes. Black eyes. I want my light. Where did my light go?_

_I scream. I scream for Dean._

_"He won't help," she says. So cruel. I don't care. I scream anyway. "He can't help you."_

_A cackle echoes through the darkness._

* * *

I open my eyes. The room kinda dark. Only a little lamp is on. I lay still for a second. Try to think. My head pounds. My throat feels dry. My body feels like it wants to explode. What a horrible way to die. At least it'd be quick. I try not to think about that. My mind wanders.

I wonder if I could have conned Dean into taking me to a bookstore to look for David Wong's latest book.

I turn my head a bit. See a form slouched in the chair there. I don't need there to be a lot of light to know it's Dean. I wonder how long he's been there. How long he's willing to stay there. He's calm. For the first time in a while, he's just calm, a slow soft flow ebbing from his still form. It makes me smile. Despite everything. It's nice to smile. I sigh.

How very Warthrop of him, not leaving.

Everything is still. Too still. Mockingly so. Except for Dean's even breathing. I close my eyes. Try to think of something nice. Wonder if I'll get to go back to Bobby's anytime soon.

Someone whistles in the hall. Soft. I try to name the melody. Smile when I realize what it is.

_She wore blue velvet_  
_bluer than velvet is the night_  
_softer than satin is light_  
_from the stars._

I start to drift off. Someone speaks. Soft.

"Cassie, I'm telling you there's no way..." The voice drifts off. I struggle to open my eyes. Beside me, Dean wakes with a start, alarm exploding off of him. He curses, no doubt trying to rub the sleep from his eyes.

"The hell..?" Silence. "Cas..."

"Hello, Dean."

"Hey, Dean-o."

I open my eyes. Cas stands at the foot of the bed. Dean sits up straight in the chair, a look of pure shock on his face. He stares at the man standing next to Cas. Short funny looking guy. No, that's not right. Short guy that thinks he's funny. Annoying class clown vibe. Bet Dean doesn't like him. Whoever he is. He has an open Crunch bar in his hands. The short guy sees me up first. He smiles widely.

"Well, hi there!" he greets. He seems a bit nervous.

"Lex." Dean looks down at me, his hand automatically landing on my forehead. His hand feels cool. He seems to forget about the newcomers. "How you feeling, half-pint?"

"I think I miss the car," I say weakly. He offers a small smile. Then looks up at the new guy.

"You... You're dead."

The man shrugs. "Was dead. Pop's must have loved me more than I thought, brought me back. You know how it is." Dean glares at him. His expression softens when he looks at Cas. The Angel doesn't say anything, but something flashes in his eyes. Forgiveness. "Anywho, Cassie here pulled me outta retirement and apparently I'm supposed to bless this kid."

He looks down at me. Frowns. Looks back at Castiel. "Are you sure, I mean-"

"Gabriel."

"Alright, alright. I'm going." He takes a breath. The candy bar dissolves into nothing as he pops his fingers. I look over at Dean, who catches my hand. Offers a reassuring smile. Calm emeralds. He trusts this guy. Gabriel. Archangel. Trouble. "Right then. You'll be sleeping a lot for a couple of days. And when you're not sleeping, you're probably gonna be eating all the sweets you can, it's just your body readjusting." He reaches out. Lays his hand on my forehead. His golden eyes are soft. "And angelic powers are non negotiable. Any questions?"

"Will it hurt?"

He smiles. "Nah."

Soft light.

_Free._

* * *

**There. Man. I hate school. I hate this chapter. I'll try to update with a better chapter as soon as I can. Because you guys are awesome and leave nice reviews that make me all happy inside. Stay cool, ya'll. And don't let school kill you like it's killing me.**

**(O,O) **

**Have an owl for your coolness.**


	18. La Vie en Rose

**I had free time, no homework for this weekend, figured what the heck. Have another chapter. Also, you know how I said I was doing my presentation thingy over Sam Cooke's song? I lied. Doing it over "Strange Fruit" by Billie Holiday. Song is haunting, man. Just figured you'd like to know the boringness of my life.**

* * *

_She's pissed._

Mine!

_The light keeps her away. Mocks her. I can't help but cheer it on._

You are mine! They can't take you away!

_The light grows brighter._

**JustDid.**

* * *

Dean sets down a plate of toast in front of me. I look at it, wrinkling my nose. The hunter ignores my expression as he leans against the counter next to the sink. He crosses his arms.

"Eat."

"But..." I trail off and poke at the dry bread. Dark brown bits flake off. He kinda burned it. "I'm not hungry. And dry toast is weird."

He looks at me funny for a second. Shakes his head. "Just eat, Lex. Don't make me get Bobby," he threatens. I make a face and tear a little piece of the bread. Crumbs fall on the plate. I look up at him one more time.

"Do I gotta-"

"Lexington." His tone leaves no room for arguments.

"Alright, alright," I mutter, eating the bread. Dean smirks as I make a face. "I say this is cruel and unusual punishment."

"And I don't care."

"Jerk-face."

"Nerd." Still he smiles. Pushes off the counter. "Want juice?"

"Does Bobby have any strawberry milk?" I ask lightly. He wrinkles his nose as he looks in the fridge. "Don't see a-"

"Someone ask for strawberry milk?"

I jump. So does Dean, but he pulls out a gun. Points it in the direction of the new voice without seeing who it is. When he does see, he curses.

"Seriously, Gabriel?" he snaps, lowering the weapon. I turn around in my chair to see the Archangel standing by the doors, a smirk planted on his lips and a bottle of strawberry milk in his hand. "What're you doing here?" Dean demands, tucking away his gun. The shorter man rolls his amber eyes.

"What? I can't check up on the kid?" He pauses. "Don't expect to see a lot of me though. I was just in the neighborhood, figured..."

I arch an eyebrow, look up at Dean. The hunter clenches his jaw. "Whatever." He starts out the door, brushing the Angel's shoulder as he makes his way to the living room. He pauses. "Lex, finish your food."

I make a face as he disappears out the door. Gabriel looks down awkwardly, then at the milk. He holds it out to me. "Here you go."

I take it. "Thanks." He looks down at my plate, gasps. "What?"

"They're making you eat that?!" he asks, appalled. I can't help but laugh. "Let's see if we can fix this, shall we?" He grins and snaps his fingers. The toast disappears, replaced with a bowl of cookies 'n' cream ice cream. I stare at the ice cream in shock for a second before grinning up at Gabriel.

"He's gonna kill you," I say, but take up a spoon and start eating anyway. Gabriel shrugs.

"Wouldn't be the first time."

I wonder what he means by that. Surely Dean hasn't actually kill him. Right?

* * *

"Gas." I put my foot just above the gas pedal. "Brake." I move it to the brake pedal. "Emergency brake." I point to the lever. Bobby nods. He sits in the passenger seat of the old truck. It's rusted, creaky, and big. At least compared to Baby. But Dean probably kill me if I told him I was going to drive it (her?), so I'm stuck with the truck. And it's blue. I like blue. I sit behind the wheel.

"Alright, now. Signals." I point. "Windshield wipers." I point. "Hazard light."

I hesitate, look around. I look up at Bobby. "This thing has hazard lights?"

"Dunno, never used them." I can't help but smile at that. "I think you're good. Wanna give it a try?" I grin as he holds out the keys.

"Really?"

"You needa learn sometime," he grumbles. I hesitate, then take the keys. I stick them in the ignition, turn, and the truck rumbles to life. Bobby mutters something, putting on his seatbelt. I want to point out that he never puts on his seatbelt, but decide against it. I just follow suit. Take a breath, step on the brake, and grab the lever to put it in drive. "Just around the neighborhood," he says sternly. "And watch out for kids. And other cars."

"What if I hit one?" I ask, suddenly scared.

"Kid or car?"

"Does it matter?!"

He shakes his head. "Just," he pauses. "Just don't worry about that now." I nod. Put the truck in drive. Slowly ease up on the brake. Big Blue lurches forward. I stomp on the brake and Bobby curses, his hand shooting out and grabbing the dash.

"Sorry!" I exclaim, ducking. He shakes his head. Takes a breath.

"Try again."

"But-"

"You'll never learn if you're too scared to try. Try again." I nod. I try again. This time it rolls smoothly. I grin. Bobby lets out a breath he had been holding. I make it to the Singer Salvage sign, to the stop sign that leads to the rest of the neighborhood, and step on the brake too fast.

"Sorry!"

"Signal," he says gruffly. I frown.

"Huh?"

"Put your signal."

"Oh." I reach for it. "Which way?"

"Left."

"Oh." I turn on the right. Quickly change it to left. I make a wide turn, something Bobby chastises me for, but says it's okay. It's only my first time.

It's been a little more than a month since the whole blessing. We're still at Bobby's, obviously. Dean keeps saying we're going on the road again, but I don't think he means it. I hope he doesn't mean it. We still help catch the monsters from the house. We're on research duty. I like research. But last week Bobby tried to make me go to the store for him when Dean was out being a drunk idiot, so I told him I couldn't drive. He wasn't the happiest person hearing that news. I told him I didn't even have my permit. He gave me a driver's manual he got off of the sheriff lady. Jody Mills. She's alright.

The three days later he woke me at six in the morning and took me to the DMV. I barely passed the test. I missed the maximum amount of questions you can miss to pass. But I passed. And my picture doesn't look as bad as I thought it would. My signature looks like crap though. And I refused to be an organ donor. So sue me.

I already have monsters trying to rip me to shreds. I don't need to add humans.

* * *

Dean flops down onto the couch, sprawling out, his legs landing on my lap and pinning me down. He has heavy legs.

"Hey, you over-sized tard, get off!" I snap, trying to push him off. He just covers his eyes with one of his arms, the other going under his head like a makeshift pillow.

"Nah."

"Dean! Get off!" I push against his legs. They don't budge. I cross my arms and pout. The hunter lifts his arms and glances at me. He chuckles, but doesn't move. I roll my eyes. Bobby comes in, a beer in each hand. He hands one to Dean, who just sets it down on the ground next to the couch. Weird. If Bobby notices, he doesn't say anything. I catch his faint smile though.

"How was driving?" Dean asks lightly. I feel my face go red. He takes notice. "That bad?"

"She was fine," Bobby says. "Considering it's her first time."

"That's good," Dean says. He has a weird look in his eyes. Pride? I don't feel like decoding it. "So what're we watching?"

Bobby goes up to the TV, grabbing two DVD cases from the coffee table. "Eastwood or Lee?"

"Jackie Chan!" I exclaim. The two hunters look at me like I'm mental. Bobby shakes his head.

"Eastwood then." He puts the DVD in the player, grabs the remote, and pushes play. He starts back for the couch. "Move over, ya idjit," he snaps at Dean. Dean makes a face, but sits up nonetheless, finally taking his stupid legs off of me. I elbow him in the side as he tries to get comfortable. Bobby sits on the other side of me. I pull up my legs, crossing them. Dean drops his arm around my shoulders and kicks his boots off before resting his feet on the coffee table.

Bobby snaps at Dean about his feet. Dean throws back some stupid snark. I lean into his side, knowing good and well this dumb movie is gonna last a while and Dean makes a good pillow. He's warm. The opening credits start. I glance up at Dean. He smiles warmly. Huh. Never noticed. He has a nice smile.

For this one moment, monsters don't exist, and we're allowed to be happy. I hope we can stay like this for a while.

* * *

**And that, my friends, is the end of this arc of the story. We'll call it _Emo Dean Turns Nice and the Kid Turns Out to be Gabriel's_ until I find something better. Feel free to help name it.**

**Stay tuned for more of Lex and Dean's adventures, flashbacks, and maybe even the return of the dead (Because it's my story and I can bring back the dead if I want. So Booyah). **

**Peace out, _bro-chachos_! Stay Schway and all that jazz. **

**I watch way to much _Batman_ _Beyond_...  
**


	19. Challenge Accepted

**I'm back! Woohoo! Been awhile, huh? I've been so sidetracked, I almost forgot about good ole Blue Velvet. Been working on an original story, and then there was the fact my English teacher seems to think we're robots that can do anything. But I did my presentation thingy a couple of days ago, and i think I did pretty good. And guess what else! My bro bought me a laptop! How awesome is that?! The dude is seriously awesome. **

**Anywho, enough about me! Back to the story! I present to you the new installment of Blue Velvet! Enjoy!**

* * *

His name is Dean Winchester. He saved my life. He took me in when I had nowhere else to go. I've been with him about eight months. We didn't really get along for a while. I used to think I hated him.

Now I know I do.

"Dean! Why do I have to do it?" I demand, my voice coming out a muffled whine as I rest my face on the backrest of the bench seat in front of me. We're in Baby, the car Dean may or may not like better than me. I'm not entirely sure though, and it's kinda like the military's don't ask, don't tell policy when it comes to his unhealthy love affair with the car. I bet if it were a Transformer, they would have little cyborg android children running around. But that's just my opinion.

"Come on, half-pint, it's not that bad," Dean tries to assure from the front seat. I pick up my head to glare at him. He looks healthier that he did when he first found me, when I first found him. His skin isn't that unhealthy pale it was, his eyes aren't bloodshot from being constantly in the phase between drunk and hung-over. And his emeralds shine now. Not as bright as they could, but I'd take anything over the dullness that was always there before. The dark circles are still there, but only because we spent all night last night alternating between watching the old live action Ninja Turtles movies for the millionth time and researching. Bobby eventually had a hissy fit about the movie being too distracting, so I went to bed. I'm not sure when the two hunters clocked out.

"Not that bad?" I repeat, looking at him as if he had lost his mind, which he clearly has. "_Not that bad?!_" My voice raises several octaves. Dean rolls his eyes at my melodramatic performance as he pulls Baby into a parking lot. I look out the window and slump back into the seat, knowing there is no escape for me. People outside stare as Dean finds a spot near the front. Baby tends to get looks of envy anywhere we go. Once the car is off, he looks back at me almost apologetically. Almost.

"Come on, kid, you know I don't like this anymore than you—" he starts.

"Then why?!" I exclaim, feeling rather betrayed. You would too. You would hate him just as much as I do. "Why can't you do it? You're good at bull-crapping stories, can't you get yourself hired and get the info yourself?"

He stares at me flatly. "Lex. You realize I'm probably the most wanted person in the country?" he asks. I pout and look out the window. "Kid. Hey, loser. Half-pint. Lex. Lexington. Angel. Most awesome ninja in the world." I can't help but crack a small smile at the last two. He notices and grins. "Look, you do this for me and I'll buy you that book you want so much," he bargains. I look at him out of the corner of my eye suspiciously.

"And…"

He looks at me in shock, only to shake his head, muttering something about women being evil. "And I'll get you a twenty-dollar iTunes card," he adds. I narrow my eyes at him, trying to decide whether or not this nonsense is worth it. He arches an eyebrow at me and I sigh.

"Fine. I'll do it," I mutter, sinking lower into the seat and crossing my arms. "This is so not fair," I pout.

"Ah, come on, kiddo," Dean says, reaching to open his door. "This is your element. Use your nerd powers for good, like Spider-Man." He got out, gripping a blue folder in his hand. I glare at him through the window before opening my door and climbing out, pausing only for a second to grab my new backpack. "Or Batman. Be Batman. Greatest detective in the world."

"I'd rather be Nightwing."

Dean rolls his eyes and rests a hand on my head. A familiar sense of calm washes over me, cheerful. "Ah, you are still young, my dear child," he says in a horrible British accent. We start for the building in front of us, Dean making sure he's between passing cars and me. There's a lot.

"I oughta tell Gabe on you," I mutter, shouldering my backpack—a plain black one with the bright blue insignia of Nightwing—double strapping it, as they say in that high school cop movie. Dean stops short, looking down at me, his eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"This is nowhere near as bad to bring down that bird brain," he says. "Besides, he and Cas have enough to worry about upstairs. Like keeping the red turtle from starting a war."

I frown, not wanting to think about what would happen if something like that does break out. I haven't seen either Angel in a while, although Gabe does make sure I have a candy close at hand at all times. I'm not sure how he does it, but I'm not complaining. His excuse is saying something about growing Halflings needing sugar to function. Dean says it's his way of apologizing for not being around as much as he should be. Bobby says it's his way of being fatherly.

"Dean, I don't think you realize the severity of my current situation!" I exclaim, shuddering as people stare at us. "I'd gladly take a, a," I struggle for a worthy opponent. "A freaking zombiefied Dalek over this any day!"

"Lex, I think you're panicking a bit too much there, kiddo," Dean says lightly, a chuckle escaping his lips. I glare at him, only to freeze when we get to the door. He doesn't notice for a second. When he does, he sighs, looking back at me. "You'll be fine. Besides, it's a small town."

"I'm gonna die."

"I think you may be exaggerating."

"No, I'm not!" I cross my arms. "Dean, can't we just… I dunno, pass this one on to the next guy?"

"Like who?"

"The Avengers?"

Dean shakes his head. "You've got issues, kid. Come on, people are staring." He opens the door and motions for me to go in. My stomach starts flipping. My throat goes dry. I clench my hands into fists. They shake and my palms feel sweaty. Today I face the greatest monster in my time with the Hunter by the name of Dean Winchester. A monster even he can't protect me from.

I take a breath and walk into Purcell High School.

The cafeteria is big enough. There are several rows of tables lined down the room like they got their idea for the set up from Hogwarts. I shift closer to Dean as we make our way to the office, the closest door to us. I can feel the eyes of the other kids on us, curious and probably already judging. This is exactly why I took online classes. Once again, Dean opens the door for me and I shuffle in. He follows close behind. There are two women behind the desk, but both are older and not Dean's type at all. Still, the Hunter immediately turns on his charm as the smaller woman looks up at us.

She's nice looking, a kind face and soft eyes. Still, looking nice and being nice are two different things.

"Oh, hello," she says brightly, sitting up straight. "What can I do for you?"

"Hi, I'm Dean Jones, and this is Lexington," he says lightly, leaning against the counter, a womanizing smile on his lips. I roll my eyes as he goes on. "I came by last week to get registration papers for her, and was told to come back with them and the kid on Monday morning, and well, it's Monday morning."

"Ah, yes, I remember now!" the lady says with a smile. "I'll take her papers and put them in the computer." Dean held out the folder to her. "Mrs. Davis, the counselor, wants to see you. Her office is just out in that hall," she tells us, pointing to another door. "Her door should be open."

Dean smiles. "Thanks." We walk out and I elbow him in the side. "Ow! What was that for?!"

"Jones? Really, Dean?" I demand.

"What? I like Casey's character!"

I shake my head. "You're supposed to be the adult here, you loserface," I mutter, going quiet when we get to an open door. A woman inside looks up and smiles brightly when she sees us.

"Ah, Miss Jones, I've been expecting you! Come in!"

Not creepy at all. But still, Dean just smiles and pushes me in.

"Hi," I manage weakly. Dean rolls his eyes. We go to her desk, each sitting in a chair laid out. I slouch a bit while Dean leans forward, looking around.

"Man, makes me feel like I'm in trouble," he jokes lightly. Mrs. Davis laughs. I want to die.

"So, Mr. Jones—"

"Please, call me Dean."

"Dean," she corrected herself, smiling. "It says that Lex was enrolled in online classes for her first two high school courses. Why come to public school now?"

"I need some sort of normal schooling if I want to make it in college," I lie. Dean smiles. Mrs. Davis nods.

"Of course. Speaking of college, what are you planning on studying? Just out curiosity, if you don't mind."

I shrug. "'s okay." I pause, can't help feeling Dean's gaze on me. He's just as curious as the teacher lady. "Um, I was thinking about going in for criminology."

"Criminology?" Davis looks shocked. Dean looks impressed. I nod. "Wow."

"Yeah." I smile weakly.

"Well, I'm glad you chose Purcell, and we're all more than happy to have you here," she says genuinely. She holds out a slip of paper, and when I take it, I see that it's my schedule. "Dean, I assure you that your… er, I really don't want to stick my foot in my mouth here…" she trails off. Dean laughs it off awkwardly.

"No worries. This little nerd here is my baby sister," he lies, tousling my hair. His nonchalance rolls off of him in waves. It's distracting. I glare at him before smacking his hand away. Davis laughs.

"Ah. That's believable. I was the baby in the family too, and trust me, my big brother acts just like you."

Dean chuckles as he stands. I stand with him, not wanting him to leave me here. "Hey, us older siblings have to make sure you little ones don't go get into trouble. Also the birthright to teasing is always a plus," he adds slyly. I narrow my eyes at him.

"I'll have you know, I've won many a prank wars in my day," Davis brags. Dean laughs at that. "Now then, Lexington, you can wait in the commons with the rest of the kids. The bell should ring pretty soon." I nod. Dean waves good-bye and I follow him out, even going back outside with him. He stops and looks back at me. There aren't as many kids outside anymore.

"I hate you."

"I know. Just a couple weeks. Ask about Brendan Marley, see if there was anything going on there, but be careful," he adds sternly. I nod, looking down at my bright blue converse. I wear basketball shorts and being in need of a tan, the shoes pop out even more. Dean sighs, resting a hand on my shoulder. Warmth. "You'll be fine."

"What about you?"

"Psh, I can handle a couple weeks without you around," he says hotly. I cock my head to the side, giving him a flat look. His look of defiance wavers. "It is gonna be kinda quiet though." He shrugs. "Lunch for you is open campus. You want me to come get you?"

I nod without thinking. He smiles warmly. "Good luck, kiddo. Try not to piss off any bullies."

I roll my eyes. "Dean, please. If a bully tries to mess with me, I have you and Bobby and Gabe and maybe even Cas to pull of my revenge. I'm not worried about that nonchalansense." He raises an eyebrow at my new word.

"Sure, kid. Well, see you in a few hours."

"'Bye," I mutter as he walks away. Inside, the first bell rings. I take a breath and turn to face the door.

Here goes nothing. I reach into my hoody pocket, surprised to find a Hershey's Cookies 'n' Cream chocolate bar that was not there when I got here with Dean. I look up and can't help but smile.

"Thanks, Gabe."

* * *

**Sha-booyah! This was kinda fun to write. Man, I've missed this story. Reviews are awesome! I appreciate your thoughts! What kind of monster would you like to see plaguing this town? **


	20. New Kid

**I am a tard. Like, major tard. I hate HATE hate, despise, LOATHE WITH A BURNING PASSION writing school scenes. And what do I do? I set it up to where I have to write them. That's why it took a while to get this up. Whoops. My bad. But it's here now, so we're good. Also: WOOHOO! I hit chapter 20! I feel so accomplished CX**

** That is all.**

* * *

**I lied. I made a couple of little tweaks to the last chapter. Nothing noticeable. Okay, for real this time. That is all.**

* * *

Drama. Why did Dean have to put me in drama? I think he hates me. He just made up this hunt so that he can watch me suffer. Why? Because he's evil and has a love affair with a car that's old enough to be his mother.

I think I need to take a breather.

There's a group of kids in the front of the class, practicing for a play they're going to put on in a couple of weeks. There's a Baker, his Wife, Jack from _Jack and the Bean Stock_, and Little Red Riding Hood. I'm not entirely sure what's going on. Someone called the play _Into the Woods_. It's a musical. I'm sure Dean will love it.

I sit in one of those chairs that come with an itty-bitty table. There's a group of kids next to me that keep talking despite the teacher's attempts to get them quiet. I feel kinda bad for her. She looks extremely stressed. Apparently, this is a huge project and now she's having some second thoughts.

I busy myself with doodling in my new notebook. A chibi'd Batman hanging out with a chibi'd Superman. I get about halfway through my second drawing when someone speaks.

"Hey, new girl."

I frown, looking up. A boy from the talking group stares at me. The rest of the group is staring too. Everyone that isn't practicing right now is staring. I really hope they aren't what killed that Brendan kid. They don't look that malicious. More so curious. The boy clears his throat.

"You can sit with us," he says hesitantly, as if he was forced to speak up. "Er, if you want."

I look at them for a second, then back down at my drawings. Why not? I start to close my notebook when I note that everyone is staring at me expectantly. I'm gonna be killed and it's all Dean's fault.

When I get to the empty chair next to the boy who spoke, the staring kids went back to what they were doing and the group that invited me to join them let out a sort of air of relief. The boy smiles at me.

"What's your name, new girl?" he asks lightly.

"Dude, don't just call her new girl," one of the girl's snap. "That's rude." She turns to me. "I'm Natasha."

"Tasha," the boy says with a roll of his dark eyes. "I'm Lee."

"Uh, I'm Lexington," I tell them. Tasha's nose crinkles in what can only be disgust.

"Poor name choice, man," she says. "Lexington is the neighboring town. They suck such hard balls, it isn't funny." She looks at me expectantly. "You got another name?"

I frown. "Dean and Bobby call me Lex?" I offer. Tasha nods sagely, as if to say it'll work. Lee rolls his eyes again. I have a feeling he does that a lot. Probably more than Dean. I glance around. Every now and again I catch a kid staring. It's weird. I lean in just a bit closer to Tasha. "Um, why was everyone staring at me earlier?" I ask quietly.

The two exchange looks. Lee sighs sadly. "You were sitting in Marley's spot."

Marley. Brendan Marley. I play dumb. "Who?"

"Brendan Marley," Tasha says in a hushed voice. "He, er, he died right before you came here." She looks around. Lee leans in closer.

"He was killed."

My jaw drops. Maybe Dean was right in putting me here. I'm a pretty bomb actress. "He was?"

Tasha nods. "Yeah. I didn't know him very well, but he never bugged me, so he was an alright guy, I guess." She pauses, looks out to the practicing group. "He was going to be Rapunzel's Prince."

I straighten a bit. "That sucks," I say sadly. It did suck. Kids dying always sucks. People in general dying sucks. "Er, did they catch who did it?" I ask hesitantly, already knowing the answer. Lee shakes his head.

"No. Cops here suck. They say it was a random act, a drifter, but I dunno."

He looks away. I don't ask any more questions.

* * *

"Why don't you tell everyone your name and something interesting about yourself?"

I look up at the English teacher and want nothing more than to die. She's a small lady, pretty and fragile looking. Her big dark eyes look at me expectantly, her ruby lips playing with a smile. She wears heels, and that's the only reason she's taller than me. Her hair is black, but only because it's dyed.

I look out into the rows of students. There are only two boys out there. Neither of them is Lee. This is honor's English, and he said that he can barely pass normal English.

"Uh, I'm Lexington Jones, but people call me Lex." I look up at the teacher, trying to remember what her name is. "Can that count as my something interesting?" I ask quietly. The class laughs at that. Okay. I'm going to say that's good. The Teacher gives me a look that says "sneaky, but no dice." My shoulders fall.

"I, er, I live with my brother?"

Teacher pouts a bit. Suddenly, her eyes get wide and she looks really excited. "Tell us about your eyes!"

"My… Oh." I have a feeling a lot of people are going to ask about them. "It's called heterochromia. It's when the pigment is off, so one ends up one color, the other a different color. Sometimes it's caused by genetics, but you can get it from some diseases and injuries too," I explain. Teacher nods.

"Did you get it from someone in your family?" she asks.

I look at her for a second before shaking my head. "No." An awkward silence fills the room. Teacher looks around in a sort of panic before throwing on a bright smile.

"Good enough! Well, Lex, why don't you go and sit behind Tom, in front of Whitney." I hurry to my new seat in the row farthest from the Teacher's desk, catching the looks that some of the girls exchange. "You came on a good day, Lex, because today we're writing poems!"

Groans erupted throughout the room. The Teacher pouts. Behind me, the girl called Whitney leans forward.

"We do a lot of writing in here," she explains, her dirty green eyes under her glasses annoyed. Dean's eyes are greener. "This is, like, the hundredth poem we've done." I crinkle my nose.

"Yay."

"Yay!" Teacher repeats brightly. "See, class, Lex is in the spirit!" I look around, eyes wide as everyone stares at me flatly.

"What? I didn't—"

"Just go with it," Teacher advises, giving a smile. I nod, unsure of what to do.

"Oh… Okay?"

"Now, we'll be doing a simple poem today, at _least_ ten stanzas, no more than twelve, with a rhyme scheme. Make it deep, give us something to think about!" Teacher says excitedly. She must really like her job. "You have all hour, and it's due tomorrow. We'll be reading them in class."

My head falls on my desk. I hate Dean. I hate Dean so very much.

Maybe I'll use that in this poem.

* * *

Whitney and Mina walk me to my next class. Mina is the girl that sat behind Whitney in English. She's a small girl, sickly thin without being sickly. Does that make sense?

"What're you doing for lunch today?" Whitney asks suddenly as we walk to the lockers. I have a new English book I need to get rid of.

"My brother is picking me up," I say. Whitney makes a small pout.

"Oh. Well you should come with us tomorrow, if you want," she says. I smile as Mina speaks up.

"So you live with your brother?"

I nod. "Yeah. We move around a lot though, so I'm not sure how long we'll be here for," I explain.

"For his work?"

I nod. Not like I'm lying. It is his job. Saving People, Hunting Things. He called it the family business once. I look around, notice a couple of people staring. That reminds me… "Hey, why was everyone staring at me when I sat down?" I ask. Mina rolls her eyes.

"That used to be Brendan's seat. Don't see why they make such a big deal out of it. Not like he's going to come back."

Whitney laughs. "That's horrible, Mina!" She keeps laughing anyway. I frown a bit as we pause in front of my locker. It's a bottom locker and there's a tall kid with uber long blonde hair in the way. It's tied back in a low pony that reaches his mid back. He's kinda cute. There's a girl holding his hand.

"Um…" The boy looks down at me. His eyes go wide in surprise.

"Oh, sorry, didn't see you," he says, pulling the girl out of the way. I give a small shrug as I reach to open the door.

"It's okay." I drop the book in and turn to follow Mina and Whitney. "That's that dead kid, right?" I ask them as we start for their lockers. Whitney nods.

"He was a jerk," she states mater-of-factly. "And everyone thought he was just so awesome."

"I don't get it," Mina sighs sadly. "The guy was horrible and everyone loved him." She shrugs as they stop in front of two lockers. "Oh well, nothing to do now." I nod and make a note to keep an eye out on these two. The dead don't like being talked about like that and if this Marley kid comes back, these girl's are screwed.

"Does anyone know who killed him?" I ask. Whitney looks at me.

"You're not scared, are you?"

I scoff. "With my brother? No. I was just wondering."

The girls exchange looks as we start back the way we came from. "Well…" Mina starts. "Some people say that he was messing with a weird group of people. The Occult and such."

"Yeah. They say he pissed them off and now…" Whitney trails off, shrugging her shoulders. The act looks deviously innocent. If that's possible. "What's your next hour again?" She asks.

"U.S. History."

"Ah. Teacher isn't here. We're watching a movie."

I nod. "Cool.

* * *

_Dean sat still, his face in his hands, his mind on the girl he had left at the library. _

_Jail. He got himself thrown in jail. Why? Because the damn nonhuman pointed its gun at the girl and Dean reacted. Pulled his gun and fired. The girl went into a sort of shock. She didn't scream, she didn't look away. She just watched, mismatched eyes wide. It wasn't until someone came for her that her trance was broke. It was the lady from the diner. The girl didn't want to go with her though, despite their friendly banter from before. She looked at Dean once as he was being led away._

_There was something wrong there. He just couldn't put his finger on it. It was driving him crazy. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head._

_Someone was walking up to his cell. He could hear the footsteps, the tinkling of the keys. The steps stopped in front of his cell. He didn't look up. Not until he heard the lock turn and the door creak open. A uniform stood at the door. His gun was out._

"_Winchester. Isn't there supposed to be another one of you?" The cop asked with a smirk, knowing exactly where the missing brother was. Dean glared murder at the cop as he slowly stood. He kept his eyes on the drawn gun._

"_What's that for? You aren't going to shoot me, are you?" he asked lightly, his façade easily staying up despite the situation. "Someone's gonna notice," he pointed out. The cop smirked._

"_There's no one left to notice. We are many, and we move quickly, infect quietly. Destroy all, move on to the next town."_

_Crap. Shades. He was messing with Shades. Dean glared at the Shade, and then realized what he had said. _No one left_. Did that mean…_

_The Shade grinned wickedly, noticing Dean's realization. "Well, there is _one_ left. Little girl. Funny eyes. Can't seem to get in her," the Shade mused before shrugging. "Ah well. We'll figure out something special for little Lexi."_

_Dean wanted to see the cop's brains on the wall. Wanted to see his entrails on the ground in front of him. Wanted to rip out those red eyes—_

_Red eyes. Three layers of color. That's what had been wrong before. The woman's eyes… _

_How had he not realized?!_

_Before he could figure out the answer, the Shade raised the gun and pulled the trigger._

* * *

**Ah! Flashback! I think it was about time for another one. Last one was, like, in chapter 15.**

**Anywhoo, Make sure to leave a review because those make me happy and a happy writer is a writer that writes faster! And with stupid, gay, craptastic school scenes to write, I need all the motivation I can get.**


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